


Broken Like Me

by SupernaturalWinchester67



Series: Broken Like Me [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Body Image, Car Accidents, F/M, Family Drama, Family Feels, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Model Dean Winchester, Parent-Child Relationship, Romantic Fluff, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Acceptance, Self-Esteem Issues, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-09-13 06:27:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 68,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16887351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupernaturalWinchester67/pseuds/SupernaturalWinchester67
Summary: Dean Winchester is used to being recognized and just landed the biggest modeling contract of his career. But when there’s a family emergency and he has to race home to Kansas, he meets someone special, someone that gets him, someone that might be the best thing that ever happened to him. Only she’s got her issues too and the last thing she wants is to be his friend. But if she can look past that, she might see that Dean Winchester is exactly what she needs…





	1. The Accident

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Part one is in Dean’s POV however, the remainder of the series will be from the reader’s POV…

**Dean POV**

“Dean?” said Carla. I lifted my head up from the waiting room. Carla had been a model back in the late eighties for a few designer clothing lines and a few perfume commercials for the most part. She still dabbled here and there despite being in her fifties. But she knew the business and she was the best agent I’d ever had. Not to mention a friend.

“Hey,” I said as I stood up. Carla had a hard to read face on a good day but her lips started to curl up into a big grin. “I got it?”

“You got it, baby boy,” she said. I sighed and closed my eyes, her smaller frame wrapping around me and pulling me into a hug.

“I’m not a scrawny Kansas kid anymore, Carla,” I said with a chuckle, picking her up.

“Ah, you’re still a babe, Dean,” she said. “I’m old enough to be your mother.”

“You’re as old as my mother,” I said, setting her down.

“Shut up,” she said, whacking my arm. “There’s a bit more paperwork I have to take care of to finalize everything but we can finish that up tomorrow. I’m taking you to dinner tonight.”

“Alright but I’m buying,” I said.

“No arguments from me. You just got a pay raise. I’ll make reservations for nine at Martin’s,” said Carla. “Bring that cute girlfriend of yours too. I haven’t seen her in a while.”

“I’ll see you at nine,” I said, giving her a nod. I kept a smile on my face until I got back to my car, groaning and resting my head on the steering wheel before I willed myself to drive home.

 

“There you are!” was shouted at me as I rounded the hallway in the apartment building. I had to stop and stare, swallowing hard before I took a deep breath. “Come on! I have to get ready before we go out tonight.”

“Sara,” I said, forcing a smile on my face as I got to the door. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh, waiting for your lazy ass to get home. Did you change the locks on me?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said. “Considering you don’t live here anymore and we broke up well over three months ago because I came home and saw you screwing another guy in my bed. So yeah, I changed the freaking locks.”

“We didn’t break up, silly. We’re on a break is all. I’m so over it now. I forgive you for yelling at Tyler,” she said. I raised my eyebrows, turning away.

“Sara…we’re broken up. You moved out. You are never moving back in. We aren’t friends and I’d prefer to never see you again. So could you just go?” I asked.

“It wasn’t like we said we were exclusive or anything,” she scoffed.

“I shouldn’t need to say it! You cheated on me,” I said, rubbing my temples. “Leave. Now.”

“Whatever,” she said, lifting her chin as she walked away. “You aren’t that good looking anyways.”

“I really hate LA,” I grumbled, finally slipping into my apartment. I wasn’t inside for more than ten seconds before my phone started going off. I was not in the mood for another stupid conversation but Sam’s picture popped up. It was a little after five and I figured he’d still be a work. Unless he had a date tonight and was calling for advice again. “Well hey Sammy boy. What’s-“

“Dean,” said Sam quietly.

“What’s wrong,” I said, his voice all kinds of off. I could hear Sam start to talk on the other end but then pause, nothing but air coming out. “Sammy. Talk to me.”

“Mom and dad were in a car accident. They hit another car or the car hit them, I don’t know but they’re both in surgery and I think it’s bad and Uncle Bobby isn’t picking up the phone and I know you and dad aren’t talking right now but I-“

“Sammy. Calm down. Take a deep breath,” I said. Sam took a shaky one. “Sh. Take another one for me.”

“Okay. I’m okay,” he said, taking a few more deep exhales.

“What hospital?” I asked.

“Lawrence county,” said Sam. “All the surgeons are in surgery so no one is telling me anything. De-”

“I’ll grab the first flight I can get. I should be there in…five hours,” I said, moving to my bedroom, shoving some clothes in a backpack.

“I thought you never wanted to see dad again,” said Sam, voice cracking at the end.

“Well now I’m scared I won’t get to and I don’t give a fuck about a stupid fight. I’m going to get there as soon as I can. You take care of them for me until I get there, Sam,” I said, taking a deep breath. “Go get some coffee or that shitty herbal tea you like to drink. Try to calm down for me, okay? Please.”

“Okay. Call me when you land,” said Sam.

“I will. I’ll be there soon, Sammy,” I said.

I squeezed my phone too tight, hands on my knees as I bent over. I couldn’t let things with dad end like that, with him thinking I hated him.

Or that he hated me.

“Shit,” I said as soon as I hung up. I dialed Carla, her cheery voice on the other end not helping the situation. “Carla. I need to get home to Lawrence, now. It’s a family emergency. First flight out. I don’t care when or how. I just have to go now.”

“Calm down, sweetie,” she said. “Let me figure something out. Just pack a bag while I get you in a flight and stay on the phone. You sound two seconds away from losing it.”

“Thanks, Carla.”

 

**Seven Hours Later**

“Hey Sammy,” I said, dumping my bag in the waiting room chair. Sam stirred awake, still in his suit and a stack of law briefs in the other chair. At least he’d tried to keep himself busy. It was after midnight though and Sam looked wrecked.

“De?” said Sam with a smile that turned sour. “I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” I asked, ruffling his head.

“Mom and dad are okay,” said Sam quietly. “Mom broke her hand and dad his collar bone but they’re alright. They had minor surgery. I tried calling but you were already in the air. The other driver was the one that got really hurt. I made you fly out here for nothing.”

“It’s okay, Sam,” I said, taking a seat next to him. I threw an arm around his shoulders, giving him a hug. “I came for you too. You scared me.”

“Thanks. They were already arguing in their room by the time the doctor let me see them. I came out here to get some sleep,” said Sam with a small smile.

“I told you to move to LA with me dude,” I said. “Get away from them.”

“I got a job with the DA’s office. I’d never get in there in LA. I wouldn’t even want to. Besides, you hate it out there,” said Sam. “You do. You always complain about it.”

“Sometimes,” I said. “Hey, I got a big job offer today.”

“That great, Dean,” he said.

“Mhm. How much do you have left on your student loan?” I asked. Sam cocked his head, shaking it as he tried to move away.

“Dean, no. Helping with textbooks was one thing but my loan-“

“You’re a lawyer in middle of nowhere Kansas. You can’t be rolling in the big bucks,” I said. “Even at the DA.”

“I can do it myself,” he said.

“I know you can. Consider it an early birthday present,” I said.

“We’ll talk about this when I’m not so tired,” said Sam.

“Alright,” I said, ruffling his hair again. “So what room are they in?”

“322. Down the hall and to the right,” said Sam. “You’ll hear them before you see them.”

“Thanks, Sammy,” I said. He slumped back down in his chair, already out by the time I stood and was stretching. “I know. Long day buddy.”

I peeled off my jacket and laid it on him, heading down the hall until I saw two bickering adults in hospital beds.

“Hey,” I said, ratting my knuckles on the open door, both heads turning my direction. Dad looked surprised but mom was the one that made a face. I gave her a smile and went to her bed first, giving her a careful hug. “You guys alright?”

“We’re fine. Just a few bumps,” she said, holding up a wrist in a cast. Dad had a sling on his left shoulder and a swollen cheek but otherwise they both looked okay.

“You call a broken shoulder a bump?” said my dad.

“Yeah, considering what you did to that poor girl,” shot back my mom. Awesome. Even near death couldn’t stop the arguing.

“For the hundredth time, it was pouring and I didn’t see her car,” said John.

“You’re lucky she’s alive. You drove straight into her lane. Her family still might sue,” she said.

“Guys!” I said, both of them snapping their mouths shut. “I did not just fly halfway across the country to listen to you fight all night.”

“I’m surprised you even came,” said my dad. I forced my head to stay up but he got softer for a second, so unlike the last few times we spoke. “I’m sorry.”

“S’okay,” I said with a shrug.

“No it’s not,” he said. I swallowed hard, glancing to mom. I was always the bad guy in these conversations. Maybe she’d threatened to leave for good if he didn’t straighten out. “How are things? You got a steady job?”

“Yeah,” I said quietly.

“You still…modeling?” he asked, like the word was poisonous.

“It pays the bills,” I said.

“What about when you get older? What pays the bills then?” he asked. There it was again. It didn’t matter that I’d been taking care of myself since I was 18. I was still the stupid kid that needed to grow up.

“I’m saving my money,” I said, trying to keep my cool. “Don’t start worrying about me now.”

“Boys. Be civil,” said my mom. I rolled my eyes, wanting an excuse to leave already.

“I’m your father. It’s my job to worry about you,” he said, looking me up and down. I glanced at my feet, shuffling on them for a moment.

“I’m pretty tired from my flight. I need some coffee if I’m going to keep my eyes open. Either one of you need something?” I asked, already heading for the door.

“Can you check in on the girl your father hit? The doctors haven’t told us much,” said my mom. I nodded and left. By the time I was down at the end of the hall grabbing some coffee from the machine, I already regretted coming home. Nothing had changed, not really. I sighed and took a few sips of the bland liquid, finding the nurses station further down the hall.

“Hi. I’m the Winchester’s son. My parents were wondering how the girl they hit was doing,” I said. The nurse raised an eyebrow at me, a doctor nearby walking over.

“The young woman is in intensive care but she’s expected to recover,” he said.

“Oh. My parents weren’t that bad. I figured my brother was exaggerating about the other driver,” I said.

“Would you like to see her?” asked the doctor.

“Uh, is that a good idea?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Her parents are overseas at the moment and won’t be able to come home until sometime next week they said,” he said. “There’s no other family that we know of.”

“I don’t really think I should. I don’t know her,” I said. “Plus my parents sort of hit her. Won’t that stress her out?”

“Well if you change your mind she’s in 409,” he said as he walked away. I stood there, fiddling with my coffee cup. Between a hard ass waiting room chair and my parents, maybe going to see this chick was the lesser of three evils.

I went upstairs to the fourth floor, getting lost straight out of the elevator, the layout unlike a normal hospital. I bumped into a nurse after a few minutes of wandering, a smile on her face that it happened a lot.

“Hi, I’m looking for 409?” I asked.

“The burn unit ICU is the other side of the building,” she said, pointing me past the elevators and down another hall.

“Thanks,” I said, swallowing hard as I went that direction. Fuck, how bad was this girl hurt? The burn unit? Mom and dad barely had a scratch. Did they try to help her after the accident? Or did they leave her in a burning car? Or did they try to but they couldn’t? I pressed my palm to my forehead, rubbing against it.

After a minute, I found the room pretty easily but a nurse was inside and the girl made some kind of screeching noise that had me frozen outside.

“There we go, all done. It might not seem like it but the pain is a good thing. Your nerves are reacting the way they should,” said the nurse from the other side of the door. “I’ll be back in a few hours to change those.”

The nurse hummed as she left the room, the girl inside letting out a large sigh. I tossed my coffee away in a trash bin nearby and sighed myself. I shut my eyes and tried to relax. I’d just say hi, ask how she was and then get the hell out. That’s all I had to do. I opened my eyes and nodded, taking a step to the door and pushing it open.

I poked my head in the room, a pair of eyes turning in my direction.

That’s when I knew I was screwed.


	2. The Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader is trying to recover after the accident but a certain Winchester can’t seem to help but keep bumping into her…

**Reader POV**

If you thought your luck couldn’t get any shittier today, you were in for yet another surprise. A handsome man, a  _very_  handsome and not in that too much sort of way either man, was peeking his head in your room. It wasn’t like you were wrapped up like a mummy from head to toe, covered in bruises and stitches and oh yeah, had second degree burns on your legs or anything. You were pretty sure you were giving him a bitch face before most of his body was even in the room.

“Hi,” he said, stepping inside.

“If you’re going to stare at the freak show, I’m gonna have to charge you a ticket,” you said. The man chuckled but shook his head.

“Sorry. I’m not staring, I…my dad was the one that hit you,” he said, taking a particular interest in the floor.

“Oh,” you said, the man shifting awkwardly.

“Yeah. I just…wanted to see how you were doing,” he said.

“They have to cut off my leg,” you said, his eyes wide. “I’m just fucking with you.”

“Geez, at least you got a twisted sense of humor,” he said with a smile.

“Yup. So uh…” you said.

“Dean,” he said.

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N. As long as you’re up and about Dean, can you go find out when my parents are supposed to get in? I was hoping it’d only be a day or two,” you said.

“Oh. The doctor said they’re stuck overseas for like a week,” said Dean.

“Oh,” you said, staring at your bandaged arms, patting the one wrapped around your head. “I nearly died but I guess they can’t screw up their skiing vacation for me. Not like they go all the time or anything.”

“You got like a brother or sister that can come by?” asked Dean. “An Aunt or Uncle?”

“No,” you said dryly. “I’d like to be left alone now please. I’m very tired.”

“You want me to call a friend or-“

“Please go,” you said. He nodded and left. You hit your morphine drip until it maxed out and tried to get some sleep.

 

You woke up groggy hours later, fresh bandages on and a teddy bear sat on the chair in your room.

“Good morning, Y/N,” said a doctor you vaguely recognized. “How are you feeling today?”

“Okay. Sore pretty much everywhere,” you said. The doctor smiled, checking one of your monitors before he moved your bear onto the table at the end of the bed and pulled the chair over. “Is this the part where you tell me I’m dying?”

“No, no. I wanted to discuss surgery with you,” he said.

“On…” you said.

“Plastic surgery,” he said.

“No thanks,” you said.

“Y/N I’m not talking about you wanting a nose job done. Your body took a significant amount of damage yesterday,” he said. “A significant amount.”

“I get it it, I was in a car accident,” you said.

“You have well over a hundred stitches right now,” he said. You swallowed, the doctor dropping his gaze. “We should start thinking about best treatment options and what you want to prioritize.”

“What are you saying? My body isn’t going to heal?” you said.

“No, it’ll heal and some of your injuries won’t scar at all. But some will and we need to think about how we best want to approach those,” he said.

“Isn’t scar cream like a thing?” you said.

“It is and that is one course of treatment we’ll put you on for sure but there are other things we need to discuss,” he said.

“Like what,” you said.

“Facial injuries are always a priority. Hands, arms, areas least likely to be covered with clothing,” he said. “The younger a person is when they have these kinds of injuries, we try to take care of them. It normally helps with the healing process.”

“What’s wrong with my face?” you said, clenching your fists but your knuckles screaming at you for that.

“There’s nothing wrong with your face,” said Dean, giving the doctor a look from where he stood in the door.

“Sir I need you to leave,” said the doctor. Dean stared at him a moment but eventually left. “As I was saying…you sustained some minor cuts to your face and a larger one on your forehead that required many stitches. There are other parts of your body that sustained similar injuries. We may want to-“

“I don’t mind a few little scars,” you said, frowning at him.

“We’ll talk about this again when you’re feeling a bit better and we know how your body is healing on it’s own,” he said. He gave you a smile as he left, Dean turning into the room with a genuine one.

“I assume the bear is from you?” you asked. He shrugged.

“What can I say, not much to do in a hospital in the middle of the night but go to the gift shop,” he said. You felt yourself crack a smile, Dean sitting down in the chair and grabbing the bear before he set it beside you. “You know these things were like two bucks when I was a kid? I bought one for my baby brother when he was born. It’s like twenty bucks now for the same thing.”

“Mhm,” you said. “Can I borrow your phone?”

“Sure,” he said, pulling it from his back pocket. You taped the camera icon and switched the camera around, nearly gagging when you saw yourself for the first time. “Uh, are you okay?”

“I thought you said my face was fine!” you said, tossing the phone on the bed, staring down at yourself. “I look like I crawled out of a blender. I can’t even see my forehead it’s bandaged up so much.”

“So? You’re hurt but you’re still pretty,” he said. You scoffed, Dean cocking his head, something clicking for you.

“You’re that damn guy in the dog commercial and the freaking suit ads, that’s why you look so familiar. You’re a freaking model, aren’t you?” you said, scrunching up your face.

“Yeah but-“

“Yeah and get out. Go make fun of somebody else, pretty boy. You’re only here so I don’t sue your parents,” you said.

“That’s not-“

“Leave,” you said. Dean stood up and took his phone.

“I wasn’t-“

“Stay the hell away from me,” you said. Dean nodded and left. You grabbed the bear and tossed it across the room, wincing when the effort made your arm throb. You slumped back in bed and hit your meds, hoping it would put you back to sleep.

 

**Three Weeks Later**

“Good morning, Y/N,” said Dr. Jones. You hummed as you continued to eat breakfast, used to people poking and prodding you at this point. He pulled your blanket back and pushed up your gown. “I’d say your legs are all healed. Minor skin pigmentation difference but most people will never notice. Be careful of sunburn in the summer but I say that to everyone.”

“Dr. Jones, the scars on my arm and collar bone and stomach and torso…all these big ass scars look the same. The one on my forehead barely faded. The stitches have been out a week. I thought the ointment was supposed to make them go away,” you said.

“Let’s give the medicine time to work. We’ll see how you are in a few weeks and if at that time you want to, we’ll discuss plastics options. I don’t mean plastics in the sense you’re thinking of but we’ll go over what would be best for you, especially your facial injury. You’ll still have ‘scars’ but we can get them as unnoticeable as possible,” he said.

“I know. I’ve been looking stuff up online, like the laser treatments. You can’t even tell,” you said.

“It’s an option but I want to give our current course of treatment more time,” he said.

“I can still go home today though, right?” you asked.

“Yes. You have someone coming to drive you home?” he asked.

“I’ll manage,” you said. Dr. Jones didn’t push it, he knew better than that by now. Still though, when you got downstairs with your bag, you saw the shuttle service out front waiting for you, silently grateful that he got you on the list for it.

You felt good enough to drive, felt amazing actually. But going home to lay in your own bed sounded like a dream come true right now.

 

**Two Days Later**

“Hey,” said a happy voice as you grabbed a box of Cheerios from the shelf in the grocery store. You spun around, Dean Winchester not too far down the aisle. “You look great!”

“Leave me alone,” you mumbled, pulling your hat down over your forehead again. You could always get bangs. But then again, bangs moved and were a pain to keep up with. You couldn’t be wearing wool hats once it got warm again. Hopefully you had your surgery by then.

“Y/N,” said Dean more forcefully. You risked a glance at him, Dean’s face softer than you were expecting. “You really do look good. You’re up and out of that hospital. I’d take it as a win.”

“Thanks,” you said.

“Are your parents with you?” he asked.

“No. They’re still in Europe,” you said. “They figured I was okay so they didn’t come…whatever. I’ll see them at Christmas probably.”

“You were in the ICU and your parents never came? I never thought my dad wanted to speak to me again but when I heard I hopped on a plane as fast as I could,” said Dean.

“Well, it must be nice to have a family like that,” you said, grabbing a box of granola bars on your way past him.

“I really wish I’d came by to see you now. I almost did but I didn’t want you to throw something at me,” he said.

“It was probably a good idea. I just might have,” you said.

“Hey you want to come over for dinner? It’s Sunday and I’m making spaghetti and meatballs,” he said.

“You want me to have dinner with the people that hit my car and put me in the hospital for three weeks?” you asked.

“Well, technically it’s just me and my brother,” he said. “If that sweetens the deal for you.”

“I don’t really feel comfortable,” you said, fixing your scarf.

“Well Sammy’s got the ugliest mug you’ve ever seen and I can’t eat spaghetti without making a mess so I can guarantee you’ll be the best looking person there,” he said with a little smirk. “Come on. It’s way better than that frozen mac and cheese in your cart.”

“Fine,” you said. “This dinner better be good.”

 

“Hi,” said a tall guy, answering the door at the address Dean have you. “Y/N?”

“Sam?” you asked, the guy nodding and moving aside so you could get inside. “It’s getting cold out.”

“Winter’s coming early this year,” said Sam, holding out his hand. You shrugged out of your coat, Sam chuckling when he saw your flannel. “You fit in around here.”

You hummed and peeled off your boots, Sam moving to a thermostat and turning it up.

“You must be cold. You got your shirt buttoned up all the way,” he said. “It’ll warm up soon.”

“I’m okay, really,” you said. Sam watched you, waiting for you to take off your hat but you just smiled and he nodded, taking off down the hall.

“So how much longer?” asked Sam as he entered the kitchen.

“You can’t rush perfection, Sammy,” said Dean.

“He can barely boil water. I have pizza on speed dial if need be,” said Sam under his breath. Dean turned around, lighting up when he saw you.

“She decided to show after all,” said Dean with a big smile.

“Not like you harassed this poor girl into coming to dinner or anything. I’d never come near a Winchester again if I were her. You probably should sue our dad to be honest,” said Sam.

“Sammy,” growled Dean. “Shut up.”

“Dad’s being a huge dick lately,” said Sam.

“He doesn’t deserve to go bankrupt for it,” said Dean.

“I think maybe I should go,” you said, turning around.

“No. Sorry. We have some family stuff going on right now is all,” said Dean. “Please stay. We won’t talk about dad anymore. I promise.”

“Okay,” you said, Sam excusing himself for a minute. “So…”

“You want a drink?” asked Dean.

“Water’s fine,” you said. Dean moved around the kitchen, humming as he went back to work and handed you a glass. “So this is your house?”

“No this is Sam’s. I’m staying with him at the moment. I normally live in LA,” he said.

“What’s that like?” you said.

“It’s a lot different than around here,” he said, turning the heat up on one of the burners.

“When do you go back?” you asked, taking a seat at the table nearby.

“He’s not sure,” said Sam, walking back in, sitting across from you. “Dad’s trying to convince him to quit being pretty for a living.”

“Sam,” said Dean, giving his brother a warning glance.

“S’okay. My dad is sort of a dick too,” you said.

“Dean said they never came to visit you. The Winchester’s are not perfect but that’s just…” said Sam.

“Well that’s what happens when you’re an accident they didn’t mean to make,” you said. “I think I actually will take that drink now.”

 

“I’m stuffed,” you said, wearing a sleepy smile. “That was delicious.”

“Home cooked meals are the best medicine,” said Dean.

“Plus you’re kinda cool,” teased Sam.

“Kinda? I’m awesome,” you said with a laugh. “I owe you guys dinner sometime.”

“Next time Sam’s cooking,” said Dean, leaning back in his seat. “Alright. Time for dessert.”

“I got doc review to do,” said Sam. “Have a slice for me.”

“I’ll have two,” said Dean, hopping up and going to the fridge.

“See you around, Y/N,” said Sam as he headed down the hall, his footsteps echoing off the stairs before you heard a door shut.

“More for us,” said Dean, setting a pie down in front of you. “You like pie? A good chunk of the rest of this friendship is dependent on your answer. No pressure though.”

“I like pie,” you said with a laugh.

“That is the right and only acceptable answer,” he said, slicing the thing up. You scratched absently at your head, Dean watching you go wide eyed as you looked at him. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Do you need to go to the hospital?”

“My head’s just hot,” you said, trying to adjust your hat and get some relief. Dean nodded, pouting when he saw you just fumbled with the wool thing but didn’t remove it.

“I thought you got hot so…I can turn down the heat if you want,” said Dean, leaving the room, returning a moment later with a frown. He put a slice of pie on a plate and handed you a fork, cutting himself one before he sat down across from you. “You don’t have to wear a hat you know.”

“We aren’t all supermodels. Literally,” you said.

“It’s lighting and makeup and a professional photographer and oh, yeah, photoshop,” said Dean.

“No, you’re attractive in any kind of light,” you said. “Like right now.”

“So are you,” he said.

“Could you stop telling me I’m pretty? I look like Frankenstein under these clothes,” you said. “I’ve never been pretty so if the hot guy could stop telling me I am, I’d appreciate it.”

“I am not that good looking. I’m not cut or shredded. I’m not muscley. I got funny thighs. Everyone has things they don’t like about themselves, Y/N,” he said.

“Is this you telling me to suck it up?” you asked.

“No. I’m saying is it so hard to believe that maybe someone finds you attractive the way you are?” he said.

“Goodnight,” you said, standing up and heading for the front of the house.

“Y/N. Y/N,” said Dean, storming after you.

“You’re not even my friend. You and your brother feel bad because your dad hit me and I got hurt. Well guess what, I’m fine now so unless you really do want me to sue him, stay away from me. Forever,” you said. You struggled to put on your boot, Dean stealing the other one. “You’re a child. Give that back.”

“You need some therapy,” he said.

“I’m in therapy,” you gritted out. Dean’s face fell, his mouth opening but no words coming out. “Oh, don’t think it was because of the stupid accident although I got plenty new crap to work through thanks to that.”

“Y/N,” said Dean as you snatched the boot out of his hand. You shoved it on and grabbed your coat, Dean blocking the exit.

“Let me leave or I’m calling the cops,” you warned.

“Tell me what I have to do to prove that I’m not making fun of you. You are a beautiful girl, scars and all,” he said.

“Goodbye,” you said, brushing past him and practically sprinting out of the house.


	3. A New Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader gets some news about her recovery and runs into Dean again…

**One Week Later**

You raised an eyebrow when you saw Dean’s face on the front page of the news on Saturday.

“Oh God, what’d you do…” you said, clicking the link. It revealed the other part of the picture. One half was obviously from an ad, Dean looking amazing and perfect.

The other…the other showed blemishes, birthmarks, freckles, shit the guy had a fuck ton of freckles. It showed where his muscles had been made more defined in the touched up photo. It showed where he had bags under his eyes, creases at the corner from where he smiled. His jaw was defined but not the same way as the first photo. The first photo made him look like a freaking Ken doll now that you thought about it. The second, the second one was much prettier in your opinion and you figured that was the point.

“Hey,” you said, grabbing your phone, surprised when Dean answered your call.

“You’re not going to rip my head off again, are you?” he asked.

“I saw the news,” you said. “You posted some pictures on your instagram.”

“I lost the biggest contract of my career over posting that,” said Dean. “No underwear modeling for me. Oh well. I didn’t really want people taking pictures of my ass in tight boxers anyway.”

“Dean-”

“I got a shit ton of offers now. Stuff for real guys that you know, drink beer and hamburgers and I’m never eating another piece of fucking kale as long as I live,” said Dean.

“Why did you post the pictures?” you said.

“See, I don’t like the picture on the right. I hate it actually. I see a lot wrong with it because that’s what 12 years in this business did to me. But I’m a person and I guess if I’m going to figure out how to get you to not give a shit what other people think, I should start doing it myself,” he said.

“Seriously? You threw away a big job for that? You’re insane,” you said.

“Ok. It doesn’t change the fact that you got a problem with the way you see yourself,” he said. “I mean I got the same issue but I don’t jump down someone’s throat when they give me a compliment.”

“I told you-“

“I don’t know what’s going on with you, not really, but not everyone in the world is a dick,” he said.

You hung up on him, curling up on the couch and staring at the ceiling. You turned your head and glanced at your phone, wondering if you should just delete his number and be done with it.

A text popped up that told you you wouldn’t have to worry about that.

**_*Sorry for bothering you. I’ll never talk to you again.*_ **

 

**Three Weeks Later**

You swallowed hard when you saw Dean walking out of Dr. Jones’ office with an older blonde haired woman. Dean looked away, the woman giving you a smile. Her hand was out of a cast but a big chunk of skin was gone from the top of it, leaving a bright red patch.

“Make sure to stop by the front desk and we’ll get you ready for the grafting on Friday,” said Dr. Jones with a smile, giving you one as well where you sat in the waiting room. “Y/N, you’re up.”

You caught Dean staring at you in your hat and scarf, his mother whacking him with her good hand.

“Dean, that’s rude,” she mumbled.

“That’s the girl dad hit,” said Dean quietly. Her face changed to something a few shades lighter, Dean shaking his head as you walked past. “She hates me, just let it go.”

“I’m so sorry,” said his mother as you paused. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you said, giving them a nod before you followed Dr. Jones.

Thirty minutes later you felt even worse than when you got there.

Your insurance wouldn’t cover any procedures beyond the cream since they were considered elective and cosmetic. You could handle not taking care of all of the big scars. The ones on your torso didn’t matter that much, no one saw that ever and you could get by not wearing tank tops anymore. But the scar on your collarbone was high and some shirts wouldn’t cover it. Then there was the one on your face you absolutely wanted gone. It was your face and you hated every time you caught your reflection in the mirror.

“Crap,” you said as you walked out of the office, knowing what you had to do but hating it all the same.

 

**Fifteen Minutes Later**

“Mom! We’re not strapped for cash. I’m not asking for the money to go buy a fancy car. I need surgery,” you said, sitting in the driver’s seat, leaning your head against your hand.

“Oh, you don’t look that bad. Put some makeup on and you’ll be fine,” she said. “You could wear makeup more often you know.”

“Mom, put dad on the phone. Please,” you said, trying your best not to get upset while you were sat in the parking lot.

“Hi pumpkin,” he said after a minute.

“Dad, please be the rational one. Let me-“

“You’re not old enough to access your trust yet, Y/N. You’re the one that wanted to be a big girl and make her own way in the world,” he said.

“Dad! This doesn’t have to do with that. I have a job and pay for everything myself. I’m asking my very well-off parents for a little bit of help. That’s all I want. Take the money out of my trust. I don’t care about any penalties. Please, I can’t do it myself,” you said.

“I’m sorry, pumpkin but I can’t do that,” he said.

“Fine. Lend me the money and when I’m old enough I’ll pay you back with the money and-“

“Y/N. I said no,” he said.

“I just-“

“No. End of discussion,” he said. You bit your bottom lip, squeezing the steering wheel hard as he continued to speak. “Your mother and I are going to be staying in Europe until at least April so-“

“So no thanksgiving this week. No holidays. No anything. Again,” you said. “Shocker.”

“You sound like a spoiled child, Y/N,” he said.

“Sorry. I only wanted to see my family but almost dying didn’t even phase you. You probably wish I had so you could just have all your stupid money and travel all the time and forget I even exist,” you said, not caring that you were starting to cry.

“That is not true,” he said. “You need to learn to grow up and realize-“

“Grow up? I am a grown up. You made me grow up way before I was supposed to,” you spat out. “I should call one of my old nannies, you know, the people that actually raised me.”

“You do not need money to fix some stupid scars and acting like a child won’t make me give it to you. You don’t need it,” he said.

“Did mom even show you the picture I sent her? The one on my forehead is huge and-“

“Why do you care? You aren’t that pretty. Get some bangs or wear makeup if it makes you so wound up,” he said.

“Well thank you,” you said with a scoff to try and push down the pit in your gut that was overwhelming you. “I really appreciated that. I was only asking for a tiny bit of help, something that wouldn’t even be a drop in the bucket for you but who was I to think you gave a shit. I think it’d be better if we didn’t talk for a while.”

You hung up on him, tossing your phone in the seat and resting your head against the wheel.

You cried and shook for a few minutes before a knock at your door made you nearly shout. You turned away and wiped your face on your sleeve, turning back to see Dean frowning outside, a cup of coffee in a gloved hand.

“What?” you tried to say forcefully but it came out as a screech and you started crying again.

“My mom forgot her phone here,” he said. You glared at him through the window, Dean still standing there. You threw the door open, the cool air making your cheeks cold and your nose stuff up even more. “It’s caramel.”

He held the coffee cup out to you. You took it without thinking about it and felt your hands warm up, a small sip of it calming you down a little.

“Drive safe,” he said, turning around.

“Wait,” you croaked out, Dean spinning in his heels. “You’re not making fun of me, are you.”

“No,” he said quietly.

“Why do you talk to me?” you asked.

“Because you’re lonely and I’m lonely and you’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen in my life. I think we could be friends,” he said.

“But I’m not gorgeous,” you said.

“Agree to disagree then,” he said with a smile.

“Why are you still here?” you asked. “You don’t live in Lawrence.”

“I told myself I should stick around for my parents until they got better,” he said with a shrug.

“It’s been over six weeks,” you said. “Your mom looked pretty okay.”

“I know. They don’t need me,” said Dean.

“I don’t need you either,” you said.

“Nobody needs me, sweetheart,” he said with a sad smile.

“Don’t say that,” you said, a different kind of ache filling you up.

“It’s true,” he said with a shrug. “All I’m good for is being a pretty face.”

“You know…there can’t be two self-depreciators in this friendship,” you said.

“We could always take turns?” said Dean with a smile. You felt a smile on your face, despite the fact you could feel tears still spilling down your cheeks. “I take it I’m allowed to talk to you again?”

“Yeah,” you said, wiping at your face again.

“Do you want to talk about whatever caused this whole situation?” he said, waving his hand around.

“I hate my parents,” you said. “Oh, and I can’t afford surgery to fix what’s still wrong with me until I’m a lot older so there’s that.”

“Maybe you’ll win the lottery. You’re due for some good luck,” he said.

“I don’t seem to have that,” you said, taking another sip of the coffee. “Thank you.”

“I got to drop off my mom’s phone but maybe we could hang out tonight. Sam’s working on a big case and he’d rather have me out of the house anyways,” said Dean.

“I have…my thing on Tuesday evenings,” you said.

“Therapy? We can go after,” he said.

“Sure,” you said, Dean cocking his head at your car. “What?”

“Uh, I hate to be the bearer of even more bad news but you may or may not have a flat tire,” he said with a wince.

“Naturally,” you said, laughing to yourself. “My day was already going to shit.”

“I’ll give you a ride home if you want. My Uncle Bobby runs a salvage yard. I bet we can find you a decent tire for free if you don’t mind waiting until tomorrow,” said Dean.

“Free is good,” you said.

“Okay then, pretty girl, where are we off to?”

 

**Four Hours Later**

“Hm,” said Dr. Bram. You raised an eyebrow at him, getting a chuckle from him. “You had a long day by all accounts.”

“Yeah,” you said, playing with a piece of stray thread off of one of the pillows.

“Yet you seem to be in a much better space right now than I’ve seen you…quite possible ever. Why do you think that is?” he asked.

“Is this some sort of thing where I say I made a friend?” you asked, half-joking, half-not.

“Sure. A male friend too,” he said. “You have plans this evening with him, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” you said. “You’re the one making a big deal out of this, not me.”

“You are allowed to be excited for that, Y/N,” he said. “Going to have fun with a friend.”

“It’s not a date,” you said.

“I know. I don’t want to keep you either so I’m going to let you out a few minutes early and give you a homework assignment,” he said.

“Oh come on,” you said. “I haven’t gotten homework in two years.”

“We missed six weeks of sessions. A lot has happened since then including changes to your appearance which you refuse to talk about,” he said.

“So,” you shot back.

“So I’m giving you homework again until you start feeling safe to discuss it with me,” he said. You groaned but he handed you back your old notebook filled with assignments from over the past few years.

“Dr. Bram-“

“An essay,” he said.

“No! I’m not in school. I don’t-“

“You like to write. It’s one of your hobbies. You work from home too so this will not be a problem for you to find an hour over the next week to whip something up for me,” he said.

“Can I at least type it?” you asked.

“Yes,” he said. “But stick a copy in here.”

“Fine,” you grumbled, shoving the notebook in your bag.

“Five to ten things you like about your physical appearance. Two page minimum,” he said.

“I hate you,” you said, Dr. Bram shrugging. “Fine. But don’t expect it to be great or anything.”

“Mhm,” he said. You sighed as you stood up, following him out of his office as he closed up for the night. You spotted Dean on the couch in the front room, a laugh booming next to you.

“Dean! Good to see you,” said Dr. Bram as he walked over to him. “Are you back in town?”

“At the moment,” said Dean with a smile, giving him a handshake.

“I’m closing up for the night but if you’re looking for a spot, I got a few slots tomorrow,” he said.

“No, no, I’m doing good. I’m just waiting for Y/N to finish up so we can go have some fun,” said Dean. Dr. Bram nodded and gave you a smile.

“You’re in good hands with this one,” said Dr. Bram to you. “Have fun and next Tuesday-“

“Essay. I got it,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Goodnight Dr. Bram.”

“Goodnight,” he said. You walked out with Dean, sliding into the passenger seat.

“I can’t believe you didn’t take this car to LA,” you said, buckling your belt.

“I know. I missed my Baby,” he said with a smile as he sat down, running his hand over the dash.

“So…how do you know Dr. Bram?” you asked. “If that’s okay.”

“What gave it away?” he teased. “It’s cool. I saw Dr. Bram when I was a kid and then when I was a teenager again. There was a house fire when I was little. Everyone was fine but somebody said because I was quiet I was screwed up so I went to Dr. Bram. I liked going, I didn’t have to hear my parents fighting when I was there.”

“When you were older?” you asked, hoping you weren’t pushing too much.

“I got in a big fight with my dad. I think I wanted to join football. I don’t really remember it that well. He got mad and I got mad and it got out of control. My mom called the cops because dad punched a wall and they forced me and Sam to go to Dr. Bram weekly for like…a year. I just sort of kept going until I moved to LA,” he said.

“Both of you guys went?” you asked.

“Well, not together. Sometimes we did but…the cops were concerned we weren’t living in a good environment or some crap. Dad’s a dick sometimes and he makes mistakes but he’s not that kind of guy,” said Dean. “I mean, I think he wouldn’t let me join so I’d be safe. It’s probably why we’re still fighting. He worries too much.”

“You’re very open,” you said.

“No, no. I’m really not. I’m not embarrassed to talk about my problems with you though, unlike you which doesn’t even make sense. You have shitty luck but seem like a relatively normal person,” he said. “I’m the supermodel after all. I’m supposed to be the screwed up one.”

“You’re not that pretty,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“See! Finally, you’re starting to get it,” he said with a big smile.

“Let’s go get a drink, dork.”

 

“So besides pie, muscle cars and classic rock, what do you like, Dean?” you said with a smile, grabbing the other half of his uneaten pretzel while Dean munched on some of your fries.

“I think I like you which sucks because you really don’t like me,” said Dean.

“What? I like you,” you said, Dean grinning hard. “Oh shut up.”

“I do like you,” he said, looking across the bar. “But I don’t think rushing into this is good for either one of us.”

“Rushing into what,” you said.

“Dating. Let’s be friends first,” he said with a smile.

“Dating?” you said.

“Yeah. We’ve already established that I have the hots for you. It’s bound to happen at some point. Just warning you now,” he said, a smirk tugging onto his lips.

“What about me is so pretty then?” you asked, Dean shrugging. “Dean.”

“That’s a date question. We’re just hanging out,” he said with another smirk, sipping on his beer.

“You’re not going to tell me why you’re attracted to me,” you said.

“Exactly,” he said, pointing his beer at you.

“Why?” you asked.

“Me saying it isn’t going to make you believe it. See, I got to show you and then someday when I tell you, you’ll believe me,” he said. “Make sense?”

“I think you spent too much time in LA,” you said, rolling your eyes, eating the rest of his pretzel. “Again, aren’t you supposed to move back there?”

“I’m a model. I can work from anywhere. If there’s anything big I can hop a ride down to Dallas or Kansas City or St. Louis. I think I might be moving back to Lawrence permanently,” he said.

“Won’t you miss your friends? Your life? Your house?” you asked.

“They have these things called phones to talk to my friends and my apartment I own the lease on until the end of March and my life here is better than the one out there honestly which says something in itself. Any more ways you want to try to get rid of me?” he asked, stealing another french fry and giving you a wink.

“Friends don’t wink at friends like that,” you said.

“Cut me some slack,” he said, wiping off his hands. “Let’s go dance.”

“Dean! I don’t dance,” you said. “People watch other people dance.”

“They do, don’t they?” he said with a chuckle, grabbing your hand.

“No, Dean please, I don’t want to,” you said, trying to pry his hand off but it wasn’t any use. Dean released you though and you pulled your hands into your lap. “I’m going to use the bathroom.”

“Sorry,” he said quietly.

“It’s okay. Can you just watch my drink while I’m gone?” you asked. Dean nodded and you gave him a smile before you were headed for the ladies room. You sighed when you got inside. It was dark in the bar and no one cared that you were wearing a hat and scarf inside. But if you danced, you’d get hot and take it off and then people would see, including Dean and he only ever saw you with bandages covering your stitches so he didn’t even really know how bad you were and he actually probably thought you were hideous if he ever saw them and…

You flipped the toilet seat down and sat on it with your head between your knees, taking deep breaths.

“Excuse me? Y/N?” asked a voice you didn’t recognize. You stood up and flushed, wiping your face off before you left the stall. A woman was standing there, giving you a smile. “Y/N?”

“Yeah,” you said.

“Your friend was getting worried and asked if I’d check that you were alright,” she said.

“Yeah. The greasy food is bothering me is all,” you said. “I’ll be right out.”

When you got back to your table Dean looked a little relieved but mostly concerned.

“Are you okay? You were gone over twenty minutes,” said Dean. You scoffed. It couldn’t have been that long, five minutes max. “You were crying.”

“No I wasn’t,” you said.

“Your face is red,” he said.

“I wasn’t crying,” you said. “I’m fine. It’s getting late. I need a ride home.”

“Alright. I can drive you.”

 

“Thanks,” you said when Dean pulled up to your house.

“My Uncle said your car should be in your driveway around lunch. No charge,” said Dean with a nod.

“This is why we shouldn’t be friends. I’m a hot mess and you’re nothing but nice,” you said.

“You didn’t sue my parents when you had every right to. The accident was dad’s fault,” said Dean. “You’re the nice one.”

“Like you said, it was an accident,” you said.

“Still though,” he said. He looked at you, really looked at you and it took you half a second to realize he was closer.

He pressed his lips to yours, so soft and gentle and before you could even decide how you felt he was pulling away.

“Sorry. I had to kiss you at least once before you kicked me out of your life for good,” he said.

“I’m not…why would you think that?” you asked.

“I’m good at getting kicked out of people’s lives, that’s why,” he said.

“You didn’t answer my question,” you said.

“I can’t keep going back on this with you. Either you’re my friend or you’re not. Make a choice, right now. Please,” he said.

“We’re friends,” you said with a nod, not really sure what that meant at the moment considering what just happened. You opened the car door, pausing for a second. “Thanks.”

“Next time you’re buying,” he said with a smile.

“Sure thing,” you said.

“Was that okay?” he asked. “Kissing you?”

“It wasn’t not okay,” you said. “You said it earlier. Let’s be friends first.”

“Alright,” he said, catching your arm before you got out. “Earlier today in your car when you were upset…did your parents say you couldn’t come to Thanksgiving or something?”

“No. We aren’t having it is all,” you said. “They’re out of the country right now.”

“Do you want to come to ours?” asked Dean. “If you want. I know it’ll be weird with my parents but-“

“I’ve never actually gone to one,” you said. “Do you really make all that food?”

“I’ll pick you up at 11. Jeans are perfectly acceptable too,” he said. “And we totally make a ton of food.”

“I don’t…” you said, stopping yourself. You could wear makeup and something with a high collar, maybe a turtleneck. “If it’s okay with you family.”

“Yeah, of course it is,” he said.

“I guess I’ll see you in a couple days then,” you said.

“I’ll call you tomorrow.”


	4. Thanksgiving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader spends her first Thanksgiving with the Winchester family and it goes about as well as expected…

**Thanksgiving Day**

“Is this okay?” you asked Thursday morning. You had on jeans and a turtleneck, Dean chuckling at you.

“You were so nervous about this stupid scar,” he said, running his head over your head. You closed your eyes. Hadn’t you already put makeup on? “You don’t even  _have_  a scar you worry wart.”

“There’s a lot of makeup on it,” you said, Dean’s hand moving away.

“Well I don’t see anything,” he said.

“That’s the point,” you said. He hummed, waiting for you to finish putting on your boots and zip up your jacket. You checked yourself in the mirror once and grabbed your bag, Dean chuckling.

“Forgetting something?” he asked, picking up your beanie you’d been wearing everywhere lately.

“Nope, I’m good,” you said.

“Good,” he said. “Let’s get going. I got to sneak some of that pie before dinner.”

 

“Mom, I’m back,” said Dean as you followed him into a very loud house. There were a million shoes by the front door and Dean cursed to himself. “This place is like a fucking zoo.”

“Yeah it fucking is,” said a red head girl that was rounding a corner with a handful of chips, Dean cocking his head at her.

“Charlie. Language,” said Dean.

“I’m 18, De,” she said.

“I don’t care. Didn’t your dad teach you not to swear in front of guests and Uncle Bobby is your dad so never mind,” said Dean rubbing his temples.

“Uh huh,” she said, giving you a smile. “Hi. I’m Charlie. Are you De’s girlfriend?”

“Uh, no,” you said with a smile. “Just a friend. I’m Y/N.”

“So did you get the potatoes?” asked Charlie. Dean smacked himself in the forehead. “Yeah, you said-“

“Crap. Uh, I gotta run to the store fast. Charlie, keep the rest of the family from horrifying Y/N for me, would you?” asked Dean. “I’m so sorry. I gotta run. I’ll be back in half an hour tops.”

He was out the door and revving the engine to his car before you felt like you’d even blinked.

“He so has a crush on you,” said Charlie with a smirk.

“Oh, I know. We’re going slow right now though,” you said, kicking off your boots.

“He’s got good taste,” she said. You laughed, Charlie showing you up the stairs and into a bedroom where a big pile of coats and bags were on a bed. You shoved your phone in your pocket as you listened to Charlie talk a mile a minute.

You figured she was in high school or her first semester of college but then she was talking about a senior capstone project and coding some website and you realized Dean’s cousin was a little genius.

“I can barely get my email to work,” you said with a laugh.

“Oh no one can use that crap. It’s filled with bad code. So what do you do?” she asked. “I always talk too much.”

“It’s okay. I work from home. I run financials for a few small online businesses. It’s pretty boring to be honest,” you said.

“Yeah but you get to work from home. Plus you don’t have to take off your shirt like De to get paid,” she teased. “There were  _so_  many stripper jokes when he first went to LA. Poor guy. The Winchesters can be pretty vicious.”

“Charlie! Can you help cut the carrots!” shouted someone downstairs.

“Come on,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You can meet the rest of the nutjobs.”

Downstairs you followed Charlie into the kitchen, less people in there than you thought there would be. Mary was working over a stove, an older guy in a trucker hat drinking a beer as he stirred something and then there was another one drinking at the small kitchen table covered in snacks.

You’d never seen him in person but you knew that was John Winchester and the look on his face said he knew exactly who you were too.

“Charlie just for a second,” said the man in the trucker hat, turning his head in your direction. “Who are you?”

“That’s, Y/N, dad. Dean’s not girlfriend,” said Charlie with a smile. Mary whipped her head around and John’s face went blank.

“Hi,” said Mary, glancing behind you for Dean.

“Hi. Dean forgot the potatoes. He should be back soon,” you said, looking anywhere but at them.

“Would you like something to drink?” she asked. You nodded, pulling up your collar a smidge when you felt John’s gaze on you. “John? Could you get that for Y/N?”

He hummed and stood up, going to the counter and pouring you a glass of red wine, the same it looked like Mary had nearby.

“This is awkward,” said John, handing you the glass.

“I can leave,” you said, setting the glass down nearby. You were already heading back down the hall when you heard heavy footsteps after you.

“Wait,” said John. You turned around, John looking over your head. “Dean’ll kill me if you go.”

“We barely know each other,” you said. “It’s not a problem if I leave. It’s your family.”

“I’m sorry for hitting you,” he said. You nodded but still went to find your boots, John sighing. “Kid. Stay.”

“My being here bothers you though. It’s your thanksgiving,” you said.

“Yeah because I’m the reason you got hurt and seeing you reminds me that I did that to some poor kid,” he said.

“I’m going to leave now,” you said, turning around to find Dean walking in the front door.

“I got the last freaking bag,” said Dean with a sigh, holding them out to John. Dean looked between you and his father, narrowing his eyes. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” said John, taking the bag. “Y/N was just looking for the bathroom, weren’t you?”

“It’s back that way,” said Dean, pointing further down the hall. You caught John’s face before he was back for the kitchen, Dean throwing his head back. “Everything okay? You met everyone yet?”

“No. I talked to Charlie for the most part,” you said.

“Ah, she’s a good girl,” said Dean with a smile. You headed back towards the kitchen, ducking in the bathroom for a moment before Dean was handing you your wine in the kitchen. You eventually settled in the family room, too many people trying to watch football, the Winchesters big fans of the Dallas Cowboys apparently.

“Is this what you do all day?” you asked Dean quietly.

“We watch football, then dinner around 4. Probably someone starts telling a story and we sit around talking and drinking until we get hungry again,” he said. “We’ll probably toss around a football in the backyard at some point. You bored already?”

“No, just not what I imagined,” you said.

“Hm,” said Dean, nodding his head. He leaned forward and turned off the TV, getting a lot of shouts. “Outside. Come on. Time for some real football.”

A group of younger people got up and started to throw on coats and boots, Dean eventually showing you outside to the yard, one of his uncles grumbling at him as he turned on the TV again.

“It’s not tackle or anything,” said Dean as you zipped up your coat. “Two hand touch.”

“We did flag football in gym class,” you said.

“It’s basically the same thing,” he said as you followed him out the front door and around the house to the backyard. A guy a little older than Dean started talking to everyone, going over a few basic rules.

“As always,” said the guy, “No breaking anyone and no tackling, especially the girls. We don’t want a repeat of last year. Charlie.”

“What? My arm was broken for like a month,” she said.

“Behave yourself,” he said, turning to Dean. “You want first dibs?”

“Oh, no. You’re getting old there, Michael. You could use all the help you can get. You go first,” said Dean with a big grin.

“Sam,” said Michael.

“Charlie,” said Dean.

“Cas,” said Michael.

“Arthur,” said Dean.

“Nick,” said Michael.

“Ana,” said Dean.

“Jo,” said Michael. Dean turned his head to the little blonde girl nearby. “Jo, you want to play with the big kids this year?”

“Can we be team princesses?” she asked.

“Sure,” said Michael.

“Okay,” she said, skipping over.

“I’ll take Jack,” said Dean. Jack’s eyes lit up. “You’re seven big guy. Get over here.”

“Alright,” said Michael, a few of the older people with you going to the back deck, taking seats on the steps. You spun around and back at Dean, cocking your head as he walked over.

“You wanted to play?” asked Dean.

“Uh, no, I’m good,” you said, going to the deck and taking a seat. Dean watched you for a good long minute as other people moved around. Shit, this guy had a knack for when you were lying.

He didn’t say anything though and they started a game, letting the littlest kids run around with the ball and score a few times. They weren’t following any of the rules really but after a little while a few of the people with you called Jack and Jo to come inside. You thought it was over but Dean whistled for you to stay. You stood up when he waved you over, meeting you halfway.

“I’m sorry. I would have picked you first if I knew you wanted to. I figured with the accident you were taking things easy,” he said.

“It’s really okay,” you said. “I should go inside, see if your mom needs help with anything.”

“Come on, stay. Please,” he said, grabbing your hand. “I didn’t do it to be mean.”

“Why would you say that?” you asked.

“Because it was an accident and I can just tell you think I did it on purpose like I didn’t want you or something,” he said.

“I’m not some fragile thing you need to constantly reassure, Dean,” you said.

“You said you’ve never had a thanksgiving before. I don’t want you to walk away hating it,” he said.

“Fine. It upset me a little bit but I see your point and where your head was at so when I say it’s alright, it’s alright,” you said.

“We need to get at better at talking,” he said, rubbing the back of his head.

“Don’t worry about me so much and we’ll be good, okay?” you said.

“Good luck with that,” he said.

“Hey, chip n’ dale. We gonna play or what?” shouted Michael, Dean tensing up. You heard a few laughs but it was clear Dean didn’t like that name.

“Well someone’s in a hurry to lose,” said Dean. You followed Dean over to your team of his cousins, saying the rules from before were actually in effect now that the kids were out of there. “Y/N, you focus on trying to get Sam. He’s the fastest runner out of all of them so he’ll get the ball probably.”

“Got it,” you said. You let Sam slip by you the first time but then you started to get the hang of it, chasing around after him and stopping him a few times, helping Dean score even.

“Kids! Come wash and warm up. We’ll eat in fifteen,” shouted Mary from the back door. You wiped your hand across your forehead to clean off the sweat. You froze up when you realized what you done.

You held back, Dean pouting when he saw you with your hand over your head.

“You didn’t get hurt, did you?” he asked, trying to move your hand away. “Let me see.”

“I wiped off my make up,” you said with a frown.

“Come on,” he said, grabbing your other hand. He got you upstairs and into what looked like an old kids bathroom. He left for a moment and came back, holding out something. “It’s a hat. A gray beanie. I’ll talk to mom, she won’t make you take it off.”

“Thanks,” you said, taking it from him. Dean pulled the door shut and you moved your hand away. An ugly jagged thick line across your forehead was on full display. You washed off your hands and cleaned off your forehead. You had to take your hair out it’s bun, frowning as you glanced at it. You whipped it into a quick side braid and threw on the hat.

God, now you looked even younger than Charlie.

You sucked it up and went downstairs, Dean handing you a beer you gladly took.

“You look cute,” he said, fingers playing with the end of your hair.

“I look like I’m twelve,” you said.

“No, you definitely do not,” he said with a smirk. “Mom won’t say anything.”

“What did you say to her?” you said.

“I said you’re still recovering and to not make a fuss,” said Dean.

“I look okay?” you asked.

“You’re great,” he said. “Let’s grab a seat.”

Five minutes later everyone was telling you to go first in line, that you were the guest. You looked back to Dean for help.

“Let you old timers go first,” said Dean, pulling you farther back in line with him. Eventually you got the gist of it, that you piled way more food than you could eat on your plate and when you somehow did eat all of that, you got up and went back for seconds. It was all homemade and it was quite possibly the best thing you’d ever eaten in your life.

Dean nudged you as you were finishing up your potatoes and you realized some people were looking at you.

“Uncle Bobby asked if you were a model too,” said Dean, a smirk on his lips that you knew he was loving.

“No. I couldn’t do that,” you said, glancing down.

“Yeah. Y/N has a brain. She said she went to college,” said Nick.

“Not everyone needs to go to college,” muttered Dean.

“All of us have apart from you,” said Nick. Dean scowled at him but didn’t say anything, the conversation moving elsewhere but Dean was quieter than you even.

“Dean, you gonna stick around home?” asked Cas after a while. Cas was about Dean’s age and from what you could tell, besides Charlie and the little ones, the only cousin that didn’t give him a hard time about his career choice. “I just got a place in the new complex near downtown. Nice one and two bedroom apartments. Pretty affordable too.”

“I was planning on staying,” said Dean. “At least for a while. Sam hasn’t kicked me out yet so I’ll probably stay with him until I figure everything out.”

“But who’s gonna take your pretty pictures in this middle of nowhere town?” said Michael with a laugh. “Don’t you like implode if you don’t post something on instagram at least daily?”

“Excuse me,” said Dean, standing and leaving his plate behind, a back door opening and slamming shut.

“Idjit,” said Bobby, slapping Michael on the back of the head.

“Well sorry. It’s not my fault he’s sensitive,” said Michael. You couldn’t bother to hide your scoff, the whole table looking at you. “He is.”

“There’s teasing and then there’s mean. You’re old enough to know the difference,” you said. “All of you are. He has a job that doesn’t hurt anyone and he takes care of himself. Why do you have to harass him over it?”

You stood up and went to the back door, Dean sat on the top step of the deck, arms wrapped himself in the cold autumn air.

“Hey,” you said, already freezing as you sat next to him, Dean’s toes curled up tight against the wood. “I think you cooled off enough. Come inside before you get sick.”

“It’s not thanksgiving if somebody doesn’t piss somebody off,” said Dean with a scoff.

“It’s sad to say this but I’d still take your family over mine in a heartbeat,” you said. Dean looked over his shoulder at you, giving you half a smile.

“You must really hate them,” he said.

“I don’t hate them. I’m just tired of them not caring about me. I think they only love me because they know they’re supposed to, not because they actually do,” you said. “Which sucks because I can’t seem to do that with them and I know I wouldn’t feel so shitty if I could just let it go.”

“Well that’s because you’re a good person that cares about other people,” he said. “As you keep saying, we’re not even that good of friends yet you’re the only one I see out here with me.”

“I may have told off Michael and your family a little bit,” you said. Dean started to laugh, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“You’re awesome,” he said with a smile. “Well if it goes south in there, I say we screw this and go have the rest of our own thanksgiving at your place.”

“I thought you wanted pie,” you said, bumping his shoulder.

“Oh, at least one of those pies is coming with us if we do,” he said, bumping you back.

“Come on, inside,” you said as you stood up. “You got to be a popsicle by now.”

“Am not,” he said as he got up and turned around, the light from the house showing off his pink nose and cheeks.

“Whatever you say, Frosty,” you said, scooting him back inside. Michael was waiting in the kitchen when you got inside, leaning against the doorframe.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” said Dean.

“You think I’m a dick,” said Michael.

“It’s whatever man. Forget about it,” said Dean.

“She said I was being mean and she’s right. You used to laugh when I made a joke. Now you either glare or won’t look at me,” he said. “It’s been that way for years.”

“I’m having a weird day is all. It’s fine,” said Dean.

“I told you to cut that shit out when we were kids, Dean. If I’m an ass, tell me I’m an ass,” said Michael.

“Fine. You make me feel stupid because I didn’t go to college. I wanted to. I really wanted to. But Sammy wanted to be a lawyer since he was a little kid and mom and dad could never afford to send us both. So I made it easier by not going but even then Sam couldn’t afford it. His visit to Stanford is where I figured I could get extra cash doing the modeling thing and it worked. He’s a lawyer, he’s working for the DA and my parents aren’t buried in debt. That’s why the supposed dumbass of the family didn’t go to college. I honestly don’t see a problem with the way things turned out,” said Dean.

“You didn’t go for me?” asked Sam. All three of you turned around, Sam lingering in the front hallway. “You became a model to make money for me?”

“You didn’t really get that much aid, Sammy. You got some and scholarships but you needed books, computer, your dorm. Once you got to Law school I figured you’d be okay until I could get more to pay off whatever loans you had,” said Dean.

“I’m a grown man, Dean. I’m 26. That was not on you to take care of me. You don’t think I can handle it?” asked Sam.

“I don’t want you to worry, that’s all,” said Dean, holding up his hands.

“You just said you didn’t go to college so I could,” said Sam. “How is that right?”

“I got money, I can go to college anytime I want Sam. It’s alright,” he said.

“How much shit have you put up with and now it’s alright because I found out?” said Sam. “I don’t want you touching any of my loans. I will pay them myself, understand?”

“Okay,” said Dean.

“Is that why you’re my friend? So I wouldn’t sue?” you asked. You regretted it the second it came out of your mouth. Dean looked like whatever he’d been holding back in front of Michael and Sam finally broke apart. You hurt him. You  _really_  hurt him by saying that. “Dean, I’m sorry. I didn’t-”

“Can everyone leave me alone, please,” he said, going upstairs, quietly closing a door. You followed after him, Sam and Michael on your heels.

“Dean,” said Sam, opening a door and you saw Dean sat on a twin sized bed, holding an old teddy bear in his hands. “It’s alright.”

“He thinks I’m stupid, you think I think you’re helpless and she thinks I’m some twisted asshole who fakes being friends with people for kicks. Alright is not the word I would use, Sam,” said Dean, Sam ripping the bear away.

“Well all three of the people you supposedly think don’t like you are all here so I think you might be a little wrong,” said Sam with a tiny smile. “I don’t hate you.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid,” said Michael.

“Again, I’d take your family over mine any day,” you said with a smile. Dean shook his head but you saw him crack a smile. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” said Michael.

“Thank you,” said Sam, patting Dean’s leg. “We’ll have a talk when we get back to my place later but you’re due for having a whole cherry pie to yourself, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. I guess.”

 

Dean was more relaxed once you were back downstairs, happily eating a slice of pie a short while later.

“You want some sweet potato pie?” he asked, holding up a forkful to you.

“Uh, su-” you said before he plopped it in your mouth. It was very good but you caught Dean’s littlest cousin Jack giggling at you. “Well who gave you a case of the giggles?”

“Are you Dean’s girlfriend?” he asked you.

“Sure,” you said with a laugh.

“I knew it,” he said.

“Yeah, yeah,” said Dean, grabbing some of the whip cream off his plate and wiping it on Jack’s cheek.

“De!” he said, Dean cracking up.

“It’s a good look for you, Jackie,” said Dean, wiping some on your cheek. “You too.”

“Jack,” you said with a smile, scooting over in your seat and wrapping your arms around Dean, Dean playing along so his cousin could get him back. Jack took a whole handful of pie though and held it up. “No Jack that’s too-“

“Much,” said Dean, getting a face full of pie, laughing as it got all over him.

“Sorry,” said Jack with a new round of giggles. “You look funny.”

“You look funny, mister,” said Dean, picking him up and rubbing his cheek all over Jack’s. Dean had an arm around you, getting your cheek before you could even think about moving away.

“Look at the troublemakers,” said Dean’s Aunt Kelly with a laugh. “Jack, did you do that?”

“Uh huh,” he said.

“I bet you did,” she said, scooping him up. “Let’s clean you up before we gotta go home.”

“Bye De! Bye Y/N!” he said with a wave. “Christmas Eve?”

“See you rascal. Be good or Santa won’t bring you any presents!” said Dean with a laugh as his Aunt said goodbye and carried Jack out. “Seriously though, how much pie did he get on me?”

“A crap ton,” you said with a laugh. Dean pulled out his phone and turned it on selfie mode, laughing when he saw himself. You saw him take a picture when you were mid laugh and cocked your head.

“What? You look adorable,” he said.

“You look like a hot mess,” you said. Dean winked and you groaned, Dean laughing his ass off. “I hate cocky guys.”

“Good thing I’m a dork then, huh?” he said, digging into what was left of his pie.

“You two are so dating,” said Sam, poking his head in.

“Shut up, Sammy,” said Dean, smiling and spotting keys in his hands. “Heading out?”

“Yeah, I got work in the morning. I’ll see you at home,” he said. “See you around, Y/N. You survived your first encounter with the Winchesters.”

“Bye, Sam,” you said, giving him a wave. The house was starting to get quieter as people headed home, asking plans about Christmas and someone had to call someone else tomorrow.

“Want to head home?” asked Dean after you’d cleaned up and were resting your head against his shoulder. You yawned and he was back with your coat and purse in a minute. You said your goodbyes to his parents, quiet for the most part while Dean drove you home. “Sorry for all the drama today.”

“No, I had a lot of fun. Honestly,” you said.

“Well who knows, maybe by Christmas we’ll actually be dating and you can come to that too,” he said.

“By Christmas?” you asked. Dean smiled, glancing at your lips before he leaned over, more confident than the first time but no less sweet.

“Maybe before Christmas,” he said when he pulled back.

“Goodnight dork,” you said with a smile.

“Goodnight.” he said.

“Do you want your hat back?” you asked. He shook his head.

“Keep it. On one condition,” he said.

“Which is?” you asked.

“Someday, when you feel comfortable and when you actually believe me that you’re perfect the way you are, you’ll show me? So maybe you can start thinking you’re amazing too?” he asked.

Maybe before today you would have overreacted again. But if you’d learned one thing about Dean, a part of him cared about you. You were still getting used to that and you doubted you would ever want anyone to see how you looked.

But if somebody was going to get you to change your mind, it was probably going to be him.

“Okay,” you said with a nod.

“I’ll text you tomorrow,” he said with a smile.

“Okay,” you said. “Oh and, Dean? Sam loves you. Don’t get in a fight with him tonight.”

“No fighting. Just a talk. Thanks, sweetheart.”


	5. St. Louis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean invites the reader to a photo shoot and they make a day trip out of it…

You were yawning and chowing down on a bowl of cereal the next morning, watching CNN during a work break when your phone started to buzz.

**_*Good morning, pretty girl.*_ **

You rolled your eyes, blushing a little actually. You had your phone in your hand when a commercial came on, Dean wearing a fancy suit. Damn he looked good. But now you knew what he looked when he smiled and the whole smoulder thing was just too much.

**_*Morning. Just saw a commercial with you in it. Less Blue Steel next time, Dean.*_ **

**_*I fucking hate that suit one. Pays the bills though. Speaking of which, you want to go to St. Louis with me tomorrow? I have to sign a few things for a new company I’m working with and take a few pictures but it’ll be an hour at most. We could make a day trip of it.*_ **

**_*I can’t afford a last minute flight to St. Louis, Dean*_ **

**_*I was asking if you wanted to go, not pay. Besides, I was going to drive.*_ **

You didn’t text back right away and another popped up from Dean.

**_*Please? I need someone to watch my back and Sam has to travel for a conference and my agent is stuck in LA*_ **

**_*Alright. Why am I watching your back though?*_ **

**_*I don’t like to go to these things alone for new clients. You’re a smart business person. Plus you stood up to Michael and that takes a serious pair*_ **

**_*So what time do we leave?*_ **

 

**Saturday Morning**

“Dean,” you yawned, sliding into his car or Baby as he referred to it. “It’s five in the morning.”

“You can sleep. It’s okay. I’ll wake you up for breakfast,” he said with a tired smile. You didn’t mean to conk out on him but the car was toasty and when your eyes fluttered open, the sun was up and Dean was stretching in his seat. “Hungry?”

“Mhm,” you said, snuggling into the seat, Dean chuckling.

“Get up sleepy head. Take a bathroom break. We got about an hour to go,” he said. You managed to sit upright and get out of the car, smiling at the slightly warmer air. You wandered into the rest stop, bumping into Dean outside.

“Coffee?” he asked. You hummed following him in line, grabbing a breakfast sandwich too. Dean was still yawning when you went outside, hopping on the hood of Baby to eat.

“Do you want me to drive?” you asked. “You can sleep before your model thing.”

“I’m okay,” he said. “Let’s head out. I’m supposed to be there at ten.”

 

“Hi,” said Dean, shaking someone’s hand as he stood up from his seat in the lobby. You got up with him, the woman in a suit leading him out of there and through some door. She didn’t pay you much attention, Dean waving for you to follow after them.

“So your agent already signed the contract, Mr. Winchester. She sent a faxed copy a few minutes ago. We’ll just get your signature on it and then we can get you changed,” she said. Dean hummed as you walked through the gray halls of an office, one woman straight up gawking at him from her desk as the three of you walked by.

“I understand why you didn’t want to come alone. The vultures are out,” you whispered, Dean chuckling as he walked into a private office. Dean didn’t bother to sit down, humming as he glanced through the sheets of paper his agent had already reviewed.

“Alright. Looks good,” said Dean, signing it and grabbing a copy for himself.

“The studio is in the back. This is just an initial branding so we’ll have you do a few different looks and figure out where we want to go from there,” she said.

“Okey dokey,” said Dean. You went with him and the woman down a hall and then another, winding up in a big room with a bunch of lights, a huge camera and a rack of clothes. Dean was laughing quietly when he saw your frowning face. He leaned over and whispered with a laugh. “It’s even more fun when everyone is staring at you too.”

You started to spin around and noticed all the people in the room, everyone seeming to know exactly where they were going and what to do. Someone grabbed Dean’s arm and pulled him off into a corner and started holding clothes up to him.

He had on a smile but he could not have been comfortable when someone moved him behind a small curtain and thrust a bunch of clothes in his arms. He came out a minute later in a relaxed light gray shirt. It was buttoned up and the sleeves were down but someone was quickly on top of him, rolling the sleeves, fixing the cuffs, undoing a button.

His jeans were a dark blue, verging on black. Someone had him kick off his boots and put on a pair of black ones, someone else fussing with his hair as he tried to tie the laces. He eventually gave up on that and just stood up, getting man handled into a chair while his hair was played with, someone else taking care of his boots. He closed his eyes and his face was wiped down with something. He popped one eye open, the makeup girl instead grabbing a pair of tweezers and plucking a stray hair.

“No makeup?” asked Dean.

“We were told not to since this is the ‘real guy’ line. You do have a some bags under your eyes I can fix if you want but you don’t really need it,” she said.

“Nope. No makeup,” said Dean, looking more than a bit happy at that. He was scooted over onto a white backdrop, lights turning on all around, others going off and a camera started to click before he was even in place.

Three outfit changes later, you had no idea how he didn’t lose his damn mind every single day.

He was barely treated like a person, more like a blow up toy that someone was playing dress up with. The clothes looked great on him but you really couldn’t wait to get out of there and enjoy the rest of your day.

“He looks very good in most colors. That’s very rare to be able to find,” said someone, apparently talking to you.

“Uh huh,” you hummed.

“You look very good in that coat. It’s from the fall line two years ago, right?” he asked.

“It was a Christmas present so I’m not really sure,” you said, hoping the person would leave you alone.

“Do you model?” he asked. You laughed, loud enough that most everyone in the room looked at you, Dean included. You waved him off, people returning to their business.

“Sorry. No. This is more my friend’s thing than mine,” you said.

“Shame. You’re the perfect age for the college students and younger women. You could pull off both. I love that hat with the coat and boots. Grown up but still young,” he said, pulling out a notebook and furiously writing something down. “You ever change your mind, here’s my card.”

He shoved a business card in your hands, your face scrunched up.

“I’m the designer sweetie. I make the clothes. I know you don’t really get this world but our clothes are made for real people,” he said.

“You know what I’d like? Jeans with pockets as big as guys get. I can never fit anything in mine let alone my phone,” you said.

“I’ll take that under consideration,” he said with a smile. Dean let out a big sigh and walked over as the designer left, wearing a smile that he was finally done for the day.

“Let’s get out of here.”

 

“Is it always like that?” you said once Dean was in his normal clothes and the two of you were walking around downtown St. Louis.

“Oh no. I wish,” he said.

“You wish?” you asked.

“Yeah. I got some privacy to change, no make up, the photographer was nice. The clothes weren’t stuffy and I didn’t catch any ogling except from you so it was pretty much the best shoot I’ve ever been on,” he said with a smile.

“I did not ogle,” you said with a scoff. “I thought those people sucked apart from that designer guy.”

“Really? I’d gladly work with them again,” he said.

“I guess I’m not used to the way you’re treated at those kinds of things,” you said.

“Mhm. Plus you got to check me out,” he said with a smirk.

“You know what? You can buy lunch,” you said.

“Oh, what a punishment,” he said with a laugh. You bumped his shoulder and he bumped back, nearly sending you into an older couple.

“Sorry,” you said, Dean chuckling when he pulled you back towards him.

“Hey, you want to do something I bet neither one of us has done since we were kids?”

 

“Dean,” you laughed. “There’s like  _no one_  here.”

“Because it’s Black Friday and everyone is shopping. Meanwhile, we got the whole St. Louis zoo to ourselves,” he said, spinning around. “What do you want to look at first?”

“Let’s find the penguins,” you said. Dean grabbed your hand and a map, walking through the front lobby area until you got outside. He pulled you around in circles a few times, tugging you off towards the penguin so you fell into him with a laugh.

“You are so clumsy! I should keep an eye on you,” he said, squeezing your hand for a second.

“I’m the clumsy one.  _Right,_ ” you said, Dean pulling your hat down over your face.

“Told ya. So clumsy,” he said, helping you fix it. You turned away when you felt it going up too high, Dean smiling when you turned back. “So why do you like the penguins the best?”

“They’re cute,” you said, the smell hitting you before you got around the corner to see them but there were a ton of them out and about in the cooler weather.

“I think he’s got the hots for you,” said Dean, pointing at one that was fluffing his feathers and looking in your direction.

“Maybe he’s into you,” you said, the penguin swimming over to the glass, giving you all of his attention.

“Nah, he knows a good looking girl when he sees one,” said Dean. “But lay off buddy. I already called dibs.”

“Are you afraid the penguin will win me over?” you asked.

“Considering I’m your ride home, nope,” he said with a laugh. You kept walking, checking out the baby penguins for a moment before you got to the outdoor animals.

“Those wolves are huge,” you said, watching two light colored one’s run around a very large pen.

“They look like they’re playing,” he said, one tackling the other. It snarled but didn’t bite, only nudged it’s head against the other’s belly before it flipped on its back.

You were surprised to see so many animals up and active, not asleep in back corners like you remembered from school.

“Oh, look. It’s a pony,” said Dean as you started to get towards the small petting zoo. “That’s the first thing I’ve seen that doesn’t want to eat me.”

“The penguin didn’t,” you said.

“Me and feathers got beef,” he said. You rolled your eyes and laughed, walking with Dean into the small animal area, finding some rabbits to feed and a few baby goats.

“Aw,” you said, Dean wincing when he was bottle feeding a goat, two more coming over wanting some attention.

“Guys, guys. I only got the one bottle. Chill,” said Dean, a worker coming over and distracting the other two. Dean eventually finished with the goat, the thing following after him up until it started romping after one of its siblings.

“You’re really good with little kids. Both the human and animal variety,” you said.

“No offense to my little cousins but Jo and Jack weren’t exactly planned if you know what I mean. They’re a bit younger than the rest of us,” he said. “It was easier to hang out with the toddler and baby than the asshole college kids and teenagers when I first started modeling. Except for Charlie. Charlie’s always been cool.”

“She’s like a little genius,” you said.

“This is her last semester. Freaking kid’s already made like ten apps and sold them. I wish I had her brain,” he said.

“But then you wouldn’t get your shot at me,” you teased.

“Oh I would. The girl loves girls,” he said. “Plus she said when I fuck it up with you, she’s totally taking a shot at you.”

“She’s cute but a little short for my taste,” you said.

“Well what is your taste, sweetheart?” he asked.

“Chris Evans is pretty good. Chris Pratt…I’ll take any of the Chris’ to be honest,” you said with a giggle.

“I don’t get why girls are so into those guys! Sure they’re good looking and funny and tall and okay I get it,” said Dean, shaking his head.

“Oh, do you have a crush on Evans too? We could share,” you said.

“I know he’s  _so_ dreamy,” said Dean with a laugh.

“They’re still hot, dork,” you said. Dean threw an arm around your shoulders, tucking you into his chest but he stopped and let go. “What?”

“I was going to noogie you but I don’t want to mess up your hat,” he said, dropping his hand to his side, walking again.

“Dean,” you said, grabbing his hand so he stopped. “I know you think it’s stupid that I cover it up-“

“I don’t think it’s stupid,” he said softly.

“Well whatever you think, thank you, for being respectful and not pushing it,” you said.

“Okay. I mean, don’t think this gets you off the hook for noogies. I owe you at least two now,” he said with a smirk.

“Two! I did not earn two,” you scoffed.

“I’m pretty sure you did,” he said, swinging your hands together as you walked. You finished up with the animals and were cutting back through inside when he dragged you into the gift shop.

“Dean,” you said as he went straight for the giant wall of stuffed animals. He picked up a red haired fox and you went to the wolves, both of you paying and heading back to Baby.

“Here,” he said, pulling the fox out and handing it to you. You handed over your bag, Dean lifting his wolf out of the bag. “You know wolves and foxes, they make a good pair.”

“Thanks for the fox,” you said, leaning up and kissing him. The smile on his face was huge, a pair of light pink cheeks to go with it, from blush or the cool air you weren’t positive but you really wished you did.

“You kissed me,” he said. “You’ve never done that.”

“First time for everything,” you said, glancing down at your fox. A finger grazed your chin and titled it up, Dean sliding his hand to cup your cheek.

“You don’t have to be scared of me you know,” he said.

“We’re really bad at going slow,” you said. He nodded and laughed. “Not that I’m having a problem with that.”

“Me either,” he said, rubbing his thumb over your cheek. Your stomach chose that moment to grumble, Dean chuckling when you pulled away. “Want to grab an early dinner and then head back home?”

“Remember, you’re buying!”

 

“Mmm,” you said, sucking some sauce off your fingers. “This is amazing.”

“It’s the midwest. You can find good barbecue pretty much anywhere thankfully,” he said, moaning as he took another bite of ribs. “Here.”

You took a bite and rolled your eyes, giving him a thumbs up.

“Brisket is good too,” you said, moving some in front of Dean.

“I think Sarah would have had a heart attack if she ate something like this. God, the girl only ate kale and quinoa,” said Dean.

“She a friend in LA?” you asked.

“Pft, no. Ex-girlfriend. She cheated on me. I don’t know why I even dated her,” he said. “She was like, I didn’t say we were exclusive so it didn’t count? I’m like, if we’re dating, I shouldn’t have to say don’t date other people.”

“I won’t go dating anyone else on you, apart from maybe Mr. Penguin,” you said with a laugh.

“Shut up, dork,” he said, smiling as he ate some more brisket.

“What’s with the big goofy grin?” you asked.

“We’re dating now,” he said, his smile getting even larger.

“Well as your girlfriend, I’m officially stealing food from you from now on,” you said, grabbing a piece of his cornbread and popping it in your mouth.

“First my hat now my food? I see how this is gonna go,” he said, cocking his head.

“So I gotta know…why do you call your car Baby?” you asked.

“Cause she’s my baby,” he said.

“I bet that car was your first true love, huh,” you said.

“Only love of my life that hasn’t broken my heart yet. She likes you though. I got a feeling,” he said.

“Your car likes me?” you said, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. She might even let you drive her home if you’re sweet to her,” he said.

“Oh, you better let me drive her after a tease like that.”

 

“Relax, Y/N,” said Dean with a laugh from the passenger seat, his head pressed up against the window. “We got like three hours to go. I don’t need you having a panic attack behind the steering wheel.”

“I don’t want to hurt the car,” you said.

“It’s just a car,” he said, turning onto his side. “Wake me up when we hit the border. I’ll drive the rest of the way.”

Dean was snoring about two minutes later, still passed out when you stopped to get gas after just getting back into Kansas. He looked so cute like that though and you made sure to be quiet when putting the gas cap back on. You managed to drive until you were just outside of Lawrence before he stirred.

“We in Kansas yet?” he asked as woke up, stretching in his seat. “Shit, I gotta pee.”

“Lawrence is about ten minutes out if you can hold it,” you said. Dean smiled, turning on the radio to a quiet soft rock station.

“Thanks for driving. I didn’t mean to sleep so long,” he said, rubbing his eyes.

“You were exhausted. It’s not a problem,” you said. He woke up more as you drove, stopping at Sam’s house. Dean practically ran inside, Sam’s laugh from the front door unexpected. You got out of Baby and walked up to the house, Sam nearly shutting the door on you.

“Oh, hey, Y/N. I figure Dean already dropped you off,” he said with a smile.

“I see you aren’t traveling for work,” you said, crossing your arms.

“He didn’t lie,” said Sam with a smile. “It was just a day conference in Kansas City.”

“Oh, that felt good,” said Dean, exiting the downstairs bathroom. “She drives Baby better than you do, Sammy.”

“You let her drive Baby! You wouldn’t let me until I was 22!” he said. “When you were in a different state!”

“Don’t whine,” said Dean, rubbing his hand all over Sam’s face.

“You better have washed that,” said Sam, pushing him away.

“Mhm. I’ll be back in a few. I gotta drop, Y/N off,” said Dean.

“It’s only nine. I can hang out for a while if you aren’t too tired,” you said, Dean already smiling.

“Well it is Saturday night after thanksgiving and you know what that means,” said Sam. Dean laughed, peeling off his coat and shoes. You did the same, using the bathroom and coming out to find Dean had changed into a pair of sweats.

“Y/N, what do you like to drink?” asked Dean, padding into the kitchen on bare feet, his hair spiked up from where he’d run a hand through it.

“You guys got any bourbon?” you asked. Sam poked his head in, glancing at Dean.

“Give her some of Uncle Bobby’s stuff,” said Sam.

“She asked for a drink, not to get blackout drunk,” said Dean. “I’ll fix you up something sweetheart. Why don’t you settle in on the couch and relax?”

You found the family room, a TV on but not playing anything. The boys were moving around the kitchen when you heard them laugh. You got up and paused outside the door when you heard Dean shushing his brother.

“She’ll hear you!” said Dean.

“You’re into her, aren’t you?” asked Sam in that perfect, teasing little brother voice.

“Well duh,” said Dean.

“No, no. I’ve seen you like girls before, Dean. This girl is different,” said Sam.

“I know,” said Dean.

“Well what’s with the sour puss face then?” he asked.

“I never would have met her if dad hadn’t hit her. She wears a hat all the time because she has a scar that was dad’s fault and I know she has more she doesn’t talk about. If dad hadn’t done that, she wouldn’t be so insecure about her looks,” said Dean. “She got something taken away and I got a girlfriend. How is that fair?”

“So what, you wish you’d never met her?” asked Sam.

“I wish dad had never hit her,” said Dean.

“Yeah and you never would have come home and you might not have come home for the holidays. You guys got pretty mad last time but I see how much better you two are now. Yeah, Y/N got a little hurt but-”

“I want to make her feel better,” said Dean.

“Well she looked pretty happy when I saw her earlier. Maybe if you just keep doing what you’re doing and be a dork, she’ll take pity on your loser ass and let you date her,” said Sam.

“Screw you,” said Dean with a laugh.

“She is cute. She’ll see it someday. Personally, I like ‘em a little taller though. Makes things easier in the bedroom,” said Sam.

“Get out you giant freak of nature, and go grab Y/N some sweats or pajama pants or something. She probably doesn’t want to sit in jeans all night,” said Dean.

“You want me to put your wolfie in your room too?” said Sam with a laugh, heading down the hall. You ducked onto the couch again, Dean wandering in a moment later with a glass for you.

“Bourbon for the lady,” he said, taking a seat, kicking his feet up on the large ottoman.

“So what are we watching?” you asked.

“We my dear are about to have the annual Sam & Dean Winchester, post thanksgiving movie viewing of the greatest thanksgiving movie of all time…Planes, Trains and Automobiles,” he said.

“Never heard of it,” you said.

“It’s hilarious,” said Dean, something soft flying over your head and landing in Dean’s lap.

“Those smelled clean,” said Sam.

“How thoughtful of you,” said Dean, handing the pair of fleece pajama pants to you. “If you want to change into them later.”

“Sure. Skinny jeans can only be worn so long,” you said, setting your glass down.

Once in the bathroom you laughed at how much you had to roll up the pants, still swimming in them when you managed to get them so you at least wouldn’t be tripping over your feet. When you came back out, you saw Sam was lying on the other couch, both of the guys waiting for you, wrapped in big blankets.

“Well don’t you two look adorable,” you teased, plopping down next to Dean. He tossed a blanket over you, tickling you for a second until Sam hit play.

It took until you got to the airport scene but you were starting to get why the guys were laughing every two seconds. By the time you got to the rental car part, you lost it.

“That ended really sweet,” you said when it finished, still thinking about the station wagon and laughing to yourself.

“We watch that every year since we were…I think I was five the first time I saw it. Obviously some parts were muted for us back then but it’s sort of like our little tradition,” said Dean.

“Now’s the other half of the tradition,” said Sam, sticking in a Christmas movie, grabbing a beer and chugging it.

“Getting slow at that, Sammy,” said Dean, drinking one down fast.

“I’m guessing that tradition came later?” you teased.

“Well…” said Dean.

“Our parents split up for a few days when I was like 17,” said Sam. “We were supposed to go to Uncle Bobby’s for thanksgiving but mom left and dad left and we didn’t have a car. So we went to the mini mart, got beer, candy and ordered pizza. It was great.”

“We got in so much trouble,” said Dean, laughing as he rubbed a hand over his face. “You got grounded for a month.”

“Yeah and you ran back to LA with a slap on the wrist,” said Sam.

“I had work,” said Dean with a shrug, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Y/N, be thankful you don’t have siblings. Always yapping about some way you traumatized them as a child.”

“The clowns?” said Sam, crossing his arms. “Last year, he tried to drag me to see the new It movie and-“

“Let’s watch that movie, huh?” said Dean, hitting play. You recognized this one, yawning and curling down into the blanket and Dean’s lap after only ten minutes.

When you flashed open your eyes you saw sunlight hitting a sleeping Sam, Dean’s chest rising and falling slowly right next to your face. You lifted up your head, Netflix asking if you were still there, the clock on the wall saying it was after ten.

Dean let out a tiny grunt as he stretched, flapping his arms up and then down, smacking you right in the back. He flashed his eyes open, giving you a smile.

“Morning,” he said, your gaze going to his head. You giggled at his bedhead, Dean not getting up yet. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.”

“I think I was out first,” you said, Dean’s arm around your back, his fingers curling around your side. He hummed, closing his eyes. “Someone’s a cuddler.”

“Wolfie’s upstairs so I gotta settle for you,” he mumbled, a playful smirk on his lips. He squeezed his arm around you before he pulled it back. You hopped up went to the bathroom. Your hair was a mess but your hat had stayed in place. You felt strange, not in a bad way necessarily but you really hadn’t meant to fall asleep and stay over. You weren’t sure what it implied, if it implied anything.

Was sleeping next to Dean nice? Yes. But his fingers on your ribs…

“He cuddled and that was it. Stop overthinking shit,” you mumbled to yourself. You washed up your face and stepped outside, Dean whistling as he walked down the hall with a box of cereal.

“Hungry?” he asked.

“I’ll take a quick breakfast,” you said.

Sam made a few slices of toast as you ate, the guys trying to figure out a grocery list and who had to do what chores today.

“So when do you have to model again?” you asked Dean as he drove you back to your place.

“I got a few calls with other clients tomorrow. Carla’s been working through them, trying to get me some good ones,” he said.

“What was the job you said you gave up?” you asked.

“Calvin Klein,” he said.

“Seriously?” you asked.

“It was a lot of money but I don’t need it since Sam’s banned me from going anywhere near his loans. Plus I can still eat ice cream now,” he said with a smile, stopping in front of your house. “Home sweet home.”

“Thanks for the ride,” you said, grabbing your bag, leaning over to give him a quick kiss. “Dinner tomorrow night?”

“Looking forward to it,” he said. You walked up you front steps and into the house, heading upstairs to grab a fresh pair of clothes. You stuck your fox on top of your dresser for now, wandering into your bathroom. You peeled off your hat, making a mental reminder to really try not to sleep in it again.


	6. Good Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader and Dean end up having their first fight and it leads to an unfortunate situation…

**Tuesday Evening**

“Hey, Dr. Bram,” you said, slipping into his office.

“Y/N. You look like you’re having a better day than last week,” he said.

“Well I haven’t spoken to my parents so I’m pretty great,” you said, taking a seat. He pursed his lips but didn’t say anything.

“So, how’d the essay go?” he asked.

Oh fuck.

“Y/N?” he asked.

“I may have…forgotten to do it,” you said, looking away. “Is that a new lamp? It looks great in here.”

“You didn’t do an assignment?” he asked.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“I give them to you for a reason, Y/N. Not as a punishment,” he said.

“I know. I was busy and forgot,” you said.

“You’ve never forgotten before, no matter how busy you are,” he said, standing up and walking over to his desk.

“Are you gonna make me quit seeing you?” you asked. He stopped and turned around, coming over to your couch and taking a seat.

“How long have you known me, Y/N?” he asked.

“Four years,” you said.

“In the four years you’ve known me, have I ever said I will no longer see you if you don’t do an assignment?” he asked.

“No. I overreacted,” you said.

“Why do think that?” he asked.

“Because I feel like I lost two of my very few long term relationships I had and I don’t want to screw up and lose another one with you,” you said.

“That’s probably the most straightforward answer you’ve ever given me,” he said, patting your leg as he went back to his desk. “Also from what we discussed last week, you didn’t screw up your relationship with your parents. You had a fight with them.”

“I’m tired of being the bigger person with them though. I asked for a little bit of help, on something I really want and they told me I’m being a child and that I’m ugly,” you said.

“Those are not the words you used last week. You have not seen your parents face to face in a long time and the last memories they have of you, you were not in a good place. They might be assuming that this accident isn’t bothering you as much as it does,” he said.

“They said go to therapy back then because we don’t want to deal with you and your shit,” you said. “You, my therapist, care more about me than they do and you get  _paid_  to talk to me.”

“I don’t want to talk about your parents anymore this session. You were happy when you came in here and I want us to get back to that,” he said, grabbing a notebook and pen from his desk.

“So what are we talking about?” you asked.

“I want to know what you were so busy with that you forgot you assignment,” he said.

“It was thanksgiving this week. Shopping, that kind of stuff,” you said.

“I know what you look like when you lie, Y/N,” he said, sitting down in his chair. “You were partially upset last week because you were missing another thanksgiving.”

“I went to a friend’s family’s thanksgiving,” you said with a shrug. Dr. Bram seemed surprised but he was all smiles.

“What was that like? You’ve never had a traditional thanksgiving before,” he said.

“It was…good. There was some family drama and…well Dean’s dad is actually the one that hit me in my accident,” you said. “But once we got over the awkwardness it was okay.”

“Tell me about the day,” he said. You told him what you could remember, Dr. Bram writing a few things down, something he hadn’t really done with you since your first few sessions. “Hm, it sounds like you enjoyed yourself.”

“I did,” you said.

“What else kept you busy? Thanksgiving was only one day after all,” he said.

“I did chores on Friday since my house hadn’t been cleaned in a long time and Saturday I went to St. Louis. Sunday I did a bit of online shopping and baked some. I worked yesterday and went out for dinner and I worked today,” you said. “I guess I should have carved out a few hours for the essay.”

“You have been busy,” he said, leaning back in his seat.

“Uh huh,” you said.

“So is there anything in particular you want to talk about?” he asked. You bit your bottom lip, thinking about it. “You’re wearing a hat again I see.”

“I like hats,” you said. “It is winter.”

“True. But you’re hiding your physical appearance which is why I wanted you to write that essay in the first place,” he said.

“I can do it this week,” you said, Dr. Bram’s head shaking.

“Tell me three things you like about your physical self and I’ll let you off the hook,” he said.

“Okay,” you said. You stared at him, Dr. Bram waving his hand. “You mean right now?”

“Yes…” he said. “Come on. Number one here we go.”

“I like…” you said, trying to think of something that would satisfy him. “Um. I like…can I do this next time? Give me some time to think about it?”

“No. You had time and now I want three things you like about yourself. Go,” he said.

“I don’t know,” you said. “You try thinking of three things on the spot.”

“My hair, my eyes and my smile. Your turn,” he said.

“My hair, my eyes and my smile,” you said.

“Y/N. Focus. What do you like about yourself?” he asked.

“Nothing,” you said.

“That’s not true,” he said.

“I like that I’m smart and creative and decently witty but that’s not physical,” you said. “I’m not pretty and you making me say something isn’t going to make me believe it.”

“One thing then. One thing you like about yourself,” he said. You groaned but he sighed. “For me, Y/N. Just try.”

“I like that I look good in hats so no one ever has to see my stupid forehead again,” you said.

“Y/N, stop kidding around,” he said.

“You don’t get it. You’re a good looking guy Dr. Bram. You’re in your fifties and you’re  _still_  a good looking guy. I bet you have always had a nice face and were athletic and were a popular guy. Girls chased you around and all that. Well I’m not pretty. I’m just not. I only ever had friends or boyfriends because my family had money and they’re all gone. I am not someone that anyone wants. How do you not understand that after four years?” you said.

“I want us to take a five minute break. Stay here please,” he said. He left his office, leaving you alone to grab one of the pillows from the couch and punch it. He returned with a bottle of water, setting it down in front of you. “That’s twice now I’ve upset you in the span of fifteen minutes. This is not normal behavior for you, Y/N.”

“You want me to say something I find attractive about myself but I can’t answer you unless I lie and I’m not supposed to lie to you so I don’t know what you want me to do,” you said.

“I want to forget about the assignment for the moment. Just tell me about your weekend.”

 

“Y/N,” said Dr. Bram, scratching his head at the end of the session. “I’m very confused and you typically don’t confuse me.”

“What’d I do?” you asked, staring at the clock again, Dr. Bram already calling you out on it twice and saying you could leave anytime you wanted.

“Earlier you said that you don’t find yourself pretty, that no one wants you apart from monetary reasons. Yet, you now have a boyfriend who makes you feel good and to quote you from three minutes ago, wanted. Do you see why I’m confused?” he asked.

“It’s different around Dean,” you said with a shrug.

“How so?” he asked.

“I was very rude to him on more than occasion, I’ve overreacted to something he’s said and I’ve tried to push him away. Yet he respects me and was always kind and doesn’t push me to show him my scars or…I guess a very, very small piece of me, when I’m with him and he looks at me like that, believes him when he says he thinks I’m beautiful,” you said.

“Why do you think you believe him of all people?” asked Dr. Bram.

“I think because he’s handsome and hot and he could date any girl he wanted without batting an eye. But he picked me. I thought it was pity or manipulation or him being cruel when he first wanted to be friends but he really just wanted a chance to know me because I’ve caught him staring a few times and I overheard a conversation I shouldn’t have but he cares about me and he doesn’t want anything back and I don’t…” you said, lowering your head. “I don’t know why he wants me. I don’t have anything to offer him.”

“Maybe he thinks you care about him too. Maybe he doesn’t need you to offer him anything but you’re giving him something regardless,” he said.

“But what am I giving him?” you asked.

“Who knows. Maybe you make him feel wanted too,” said Dr. Bram. You pursed your lips, giving him a look.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier,” you said.

“We’ve come a long way from your snapping days,” he said with a soft smile. “I’d still like to hear you tell me one thing you like about yourself before you go.”

“I like my eyes, the color I mean,” you said.

“That’s good enough for today,” he said, standing up. “I am giving you another assignment though and I would like you to actually do it this week, hm?”

“I’ll do it as soon as I get home tonight,” you said. “What’s the assignment?”

“I would like you to every day starting tomorrow, attempt to do something nice for someone else and something nice for yourself. Nothing big but holding a door open for someone, giving a compliment, that sort of thing,” he said.

“What’s being nice to myself?” you asked, realizing as soon as the words were out of your mouth how horrible that sounded. Dr. Bram gave you a smile though.

“Get enough sleep. Exercise. Eat healthy. Take a long bath. Take an hour everyday to focus on you for the next week. No work. No doing chores or stressing during that time. You got it?” he asked.

“I think I can manage that,” you said.

“Good,” he said. You got up, grabbing your coat from the back of the couch, Dr. Bram giving you another smile as you pulled it on. “Any plans for tonight?”

“I have a date,” you said, throwing your purse over your shoulder. “I-”

“Our session is over, Y/N. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” he said.

“Am I going too fast with him?” you asked.

“From what you’ve told me, not at all. It’s normal to want to spend time with your partner,” he said.

“We’ve been dating like four days,” you said.

“I’ve been married thirty years. I still look forward to spending time with her,” he said.

“You never talk about your wife,” you said. “I didn’t realize you’d been married that long.”

“It’s worked out so far,” he said with a smile. “Enjoy your date, Y/N.”

 

“Hi,” you said when you answered your door for Dean. He stepped inside, patiently waiting by the front door. “Oh, you’ve never been inside before. Uh, hall closet is right there.”

“So how was your day?” he asked as he took off his boots and coat, plopping his hat on your stair banister.

“Boring. A few meetings that could have been emails and some intern misplaced a decimal and freaked out the owner. I fixed it,” you said.

“Sounds thrilling,” he said with a chuckle.

“Therapy was the most exciting part of my day,” you said with a laugh. You didn’t frown for saying such a thing, reminding yourself that Dean wasn’t going to judge you for that. He’d gone to Dr. Bram himself when he was younger after all.

“Does Dr. Bram still take walk-ins?” asked Dean.

“Uh, I’m pretty sure he has an hour slot open every morning for it at 10,” you said. “You thinking about going?”

“Yeah. My dad and I got in a pretty big fight today,” said Dean, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I know you guys were starting to get along better.”

“You handle money and finances right?” he asked. You nodded, guiding him into the kitchen where he took a seat at the table. “He thinks I need to grow up and get a real job but this _is_ a real job. I save my money and invest it and I know modeling isn’t a job I can do until I get into my sixties but if I’m smart now, I can take care of myself in the future, pretty well too.”

“Plenty of younger people nowadays focus on saving and retirement. A lot of us don’t want to have to be working until we’re eligible for social security. Saving and investing is a solid plan,” you said.

“That’s what I said but he doesn’t get it,” said Dean. “He’s never going to get it.”

“I don’t know your dad very well but he does love you. He’s worried about you and what’s going to happen to you. I know you’ll be okay but he’s scared you won’t be. You have to let him come to terms with that you are capable of providing for yourself,” you said. “You’ve done it for years. He’ll come around.”

“I know,” he said, leaning back in his seat, looking around the house. “This is very nice.”

“My parents bought it for me after college,” you said.

“Seriously? That’s pretty nice of them,” he said.

“Well, they sort of forgot to speak to me for like three years when they were on a stupid yacht traveling the world so they figured they’d try to buy me back with a fancy house,” you said.

“You’ve got more issues with your family than just missing thanksgivings I’m starting to see,” he said. “They never came to see you in the hospital either.”

“I don’t want to talk about them anymore,” you said, lifting the lid off a pot. You drained the water and were working on dishing up a few things when Dean started to laugh, walking towards your back window bench.

“You kept him,” said Dean, picking up a teddy bear and holding it up. “The one I gave you.”

“I had a couple of bad nights back then,” you said, carrying the plates over to the table.

“About?” he asked, setting the bear down and taking a seat.

“I had to have emergency surgery like three days in,” you said.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yeah. It was my appendix thankfully. It was damaged in the accident. They thought the swelling would go down but it turned into full on appendicitis and they had to remove it fast,” you said.

“Poor girl,” he said as you took a seat, running a hand over your head. “Can’t catch a break, can you?”

“Try some of the chicken. It’s good,” you said. Dean gave you a thumbs up after his first bite, asking for the recipe before he pulled out his phone.

“This tastes like it came from a restaurant,” he said, taking a picture of the meal in front of him. He played around on his phone for a moment, shoving it back in his pocket. Your own started to ring a few minutes later. You glanced at it, watching the name Mom pop up. Dean saw it but didn’t say anything and went back to quietly eating. You didn’t answer, another call coming in a moment later.

“Sorry,” you said, picking it up as Dean shook his head. “Hi mom.”

“What size are you? I found the cutest little dress that’d be perfect for a date,” she said.

“I don’t want a dress mom,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“Well you’re on a date now and in a ratty flannel and those awful black legging things. Class it up a little sweetie. The boys like that,” she said.

“How the fuck do you know I’m on a date?” you asked. Dean winced. You pulled your phone away, Dean pulling out his phone. He showed you the picture he’d taken, a little caption on it and he’d tagged you in it too. Thankfully your face was cut out but you groaned at the fact that it took less than five minutes for your mom to see it which meant there was no stopping it now. “Mom, stop yelling at me.”

“Do not swear at me,” she said.

“Sorry. Forget about the dress,” you said, cutting her off. “I have to go.”

“Your mom stalks your instagram I’m guessing?” asked Dean with a smile that quickly faded away. “You’re pissed.”

“Remove the post,” you said. “Now.”

“Why?” he asked.

“I’m not ready to go public and you didn’t even ask if it was okay,” you said, stabbing into your dinner. Dean tapped away on his phone, deleting the post, stabbing into his own dinner when he finished. “What are you so mad about?”

“I wanted to show off a picture of the nice dinner my girlfriend made. I didn’t realize I started the apocalypse,” he said.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” you said.

“You’re the one being dramatic,” he said. “I tagged you in a picture. What’s the big deal?”

“You’re a model. I’m not,” you said. “I don’t want random strangers looking up crap about me.”

“You don’t want anyone knowing anything about you. You don’t even have friends,” he said. “You’re like a shut in and that’s before you even had your accident.”

“Because you’re so perfect,” you snapped back. He glared at you and stood up from the table. “Yeah, running away from conflict is definitely your thing, isn’t it?”

“Don’t worry about me posting another damn thing about you,” he said, going to the front hall. He hurriedly threw on his boots as you watched and grabbed his coat, storming out the front door and slamming it shut.

You sat back down at the table and finished your meal, tossing what he didn’t eat in the trash and saving the leftovers. He was just another stupid guy and who gave a fuck if you ever saw him again. You stormed upstairs and grabbed his sweatpants out of the laundry, taking the hat he left on the banister and ripping the one off your head and clumping them in one big pile. You tore open your front door to leave them on the porch.

And there he was, with a soft face and half parted lips and his gaze went straight to your forehead.

You shoved the clothes in his arms and practically ran inside, his hand on the door just catching it.

“Y/N, wait,” he said, pushing it open as you rushed upstairs. You heard the front door close behind you as you got to your bedroom and locked the door, finding a hat and shoving it over your head. You squeezed your eyes shut and sat on the bed, knees in your chest, hoping he left soon.

But the door handle turned and you forgot you hadn’t fixed the stupid thing. You buried your face to hide it away, a soft hand pushing your hat off, someone kneeling in front of you. You felt your face get hot, tears running freely no matter how hard you tried to force them to stop. Long fingers turned your chin up so you couldn’t hide but you wouldn’t open your eyes. He couldn’t force that.

“Shh,” said Dean gently. Lips pressed softly against your scar and you felt a sob wrack your whole body into a shudder, Dean getting onto the bed and pulling you into his lap. He shushed you and wrapped his arms around you, giving your forehead a few kisses.

It took a long time to stop crying, long after you knew you’d soaked his shirt, long after you stopped being embarrassed. You were too tired to care. He thought you were pathetic. That was the only reason he stayed.

You popped open an eye and then the other, pretty green eyes staring back, no sign of anything other than love in them.

And you started to cry all over for once again thinking so negatively about this man that you didn’t deserve.

“We had a fight. I’m sorry. You’re right. I should have talked to you about posting first. I’m sorry about what I said about you being a shut in and not having friends because that is not true at all. You’re my friend, the first best friend I’ve had in a long time and I don’t want to give you up. I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said.

“You saw,” you managed to get out before you were hiding your face in his chest again, hands fisting in his shirt.

“Saw what? Your scar?” he asked.

“S’ugly,” you said, Dean forcing you away from him.  _“I’m ugly.”_

“Y/N,” he said, both hands on your cheeks so you’d look at him. “You’re the prettiest, most beautiful, gorgeous, downright hot, woman I’ve ever seen. I have never had this feeling I do when I’m with you. I feel like I’m going to explode and it’s home all at once. I so badly wanted you to show me because you felt comfortable with it. I didn’t want this to happen on accident but it did and all I can do is stay with you and try to prove to you that you are even more amazing now.”

“How can you say that,” you said, trying to pull his hands away from your face but failing. “I’m not pretty without the scar and with it I’m hideous.”

“Agree to disagree,” he said, sliding a hand up, tracing over the skin. “I know you hate this but I love it.”

“Why?” you asked, fighting back another round of sniffles.

“It means you’re alive. I got a chance to meet you and now I get to be with you,” he said. “I wish you could see that and it’s okay that you don’t. Maybe someday you will.”

“I wish I could too,” you said, Dean pulling you back into his chest. “I’m sorry.”

“We’re okay,” he said. “We’ll figure out what you’re comfortable with sharing and go from there, okay?”

“Okay,” you said, Dean running his hand up and down your back. He shushed you for a little while longer until he made you get up and told you to take a hot shower. You did what he asked, feeling a bit better when you made your way downstairs, Dean’s two hats and his sweatpants folded neatly on the bottom step. You rounded the corner to the kitchen, the pot you hadn’t washed out yet sitting there to dry, the kitchen a bit cleaner than you were used to seeing. Dean came in through the door to the garage, shivering.

“I emptied the garbage. Your garage is freezing by the way,” he said, shaking the cold off of him.

“You cleaned,” you said. He shrugged, taking a dish towel and going to the pot, wiping it down.

“I wanted to,” he said, looking you up and down. “How was your shower?”

“Good,” you said, tucking a strand of damp hair behind your ear. You hadn’t put a hat on, Dean cocking his head at you like he was so proud of you for not hiding again. “I have leftovers if you want. I sort of ruined dinner.”

“That’s okay. I’ll just have a snack at home,” he said.

“Oh, okay,” you said.

“Or I can stay here if you want,” he said.

“Would you mind?” you asked. He shook his head, giving your cheek a kiss as he walked passed.

“I think I will take you up on those leftovers though,” he said. He moved around the kitchen like he was a little familiar with it now, taking the container from the fridge and sticking it in the microwave. You made your way into your family room, settling onto the couch and turning on the TV. Dean came in a few minutes later, scooting you farther down the couch so he could lean back in the corner. He wrapped an arm around your waist, using the other to eat out of the container as you watched. He shuffled around once he stopped eating, throwing his legs up and maneuvering you so you sat with your back to his chest, both arms loosely around you.

“Dean,” you said.

“Hm?” he hummed.

“It’s okay if you post pictures of me,” you said. “Just not-”

“Not your scar, I know,” he said.

“Is it okay if I post them of you?” you asked. He nodded, kissing your temple.

“Your hair smells so pretty,” he said, digging into his pocket for his phone.

“I don’t have my hat,” you said.

“This one is just for me. If it’s okay,” he said.

“Yeah,” you said, giving him a smile. “Just you is okay.”


	7. Goodbye & Hello

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and the reader go out on a date and she makes a decision when it comes to her parents…

**One Week Later**

Your relationship with Dean felt more steady after that night. You’d talked the next day and came to an agreement that worked for you both. You had to talk to each other and have some trust with the other. You found a way to work that into Dr. Bram’s assignment and hoped he didn’t have a problem with it.

“Hey,” said Dean, jogging down the front steps of Dr. Bram’s as you were heading inside.

“Hey,” you said. You looked back at the house and Dean gave you a smile.

“I had a quick session,” he said with a nod. “Do you want to go out to dinner after yours?”

“Sure,” you said. “Do you want me to meet you there or I could swing by your place and pick you up?”

“Oh, I think I’ll have the pretty girl come pick me up if she’s offering,” he teased. “See you soon.”

“See ya,” you said, getting a kiss on the cheek before he was off down the path. You wandered inside, Dr. Bram just stepping outside of his office. “Hi.”

“Hi, Y/N. You can head on in. I just have to put some paperwork away,” he said.

“Um, is it okay that I talk to you about Dean? I mean if he’s coming here too. It’s not like some conflict thing?” you asked.

“No, not at all. I can’t discuss what goes on with other patients but if I ever felt it was an issue, I’d bring it up with the both of you,” he said. You nodded, heading inside his office, Dr. Bram returning a few minutes later with a fresh cup of tea. “Would you like some? It’s quite cold out today.”

“I like hot chocolate,” you said, Dr. Bram nodding, back two minutes later with a mug of it. “Wow, you didn’t have to do that.”

“I have a little girl in the afternoon’s that loves it. It’s been a good icebreaker for her,” he said.

“I did my homework this week,” you said.

“I suspected as much,” he said. “Why don’t you tell me about the seven nice things you did for other people first?”

You listed them off, Dr. Bram surprised at the last one.

“You don’t wear your hat in front of your boyfriend anymore?” he asked.

“He sort of saw my scar accidentally and I got upset over it but he calmed me down and now when it’s just the two of us at my house, I don’t wear it,” you said.

“I’m very proud of you, Y/N. I know that’s something that’s been a big concern of yours lately,” he said.

“I trust him. It’s hard to do sometimes but I do,” you said.

“That’s great. Now what about the seven nice things you did for yourself?” he asked.

Again you got through the list and again he looked surprised at the last one.

“Was that too much information?” you asked.

“No. How did it feel?” he asked.

“It was good,” you said.

“It’s been a long time since you’ve done that, hasn’t it?” he asked.

“A very long time,” you said.

“How did you feel after?” he asked.

“Good,” you said.

“That’s very good,” he said. “It sounds like you had a few breakthroughs this week.”

“They don’t feel like breakthroughs. Not really. Just normal stuff. Plus wearing hats all the time gets hot,” you said.

“I imagine it would. I think if you’re comfortable with it, you should continue with some of the taking care of yourself activities you mentioned,” he said.

“I can handle that,” you said.

“Now, let’s talk about your parents.”

 

“Hey,” you said, Dean slipping into your passenger seat an hour later with something behind his back, hiding it in the footwell. “Got any idea on what you want to eat?”

“I made reservations,” he said.

“Do I need to go home and change?” you asked, patting the top of your head. He shook his head, handing a little bag over. “What’s this?”

“A present,” he said. You peeled away the tissue paper, pulling out a black silky headband. “I figured you could wear that instead of your hat if you wanted.”

“Thanks,” you said, plucking off your hat, pulling down your visor and putting it on your head. It covered your scar and definitely looked much better for going to eat in a restaurant. “Someday-”

“Let’s not worry about someday,” he said, taking the empty bag and shoving it between his legs. “Now I got a hot date for two at Rosco’s so let’s get a move on, shall we?”

“Rosco’s? I didn’t know we were going to such a  _fine dining_ establishment,” you laughed, Dean shoving your shoulder.

“Shut up. I don’t feel like wearing a suit or putting you in a dress when it’s thirty degrees out,” he said. “Rosco’s it is.”

 

Thirty minutes later you were seated and picking at your appetizer with Dean, Dean refilling your glass for you.

“Oh, I didn’t know this date came with my own wine server,” you said, Dean chuckling as he filled his own.

“For the twenty dollar bottle, I pull out all the stops,” he said, giving you a wink.

“Twenty dollars? Don’t go fancy on me now, Dean,” you said, touching your headband.

“It’s good,” he said, giving you a nod, taking a picture to show you. “Would it be okay if I posted that?”

“Can I look at it again?” you asked, Dean spinning it around.

“You look great,” he said.

“You aren’t exactly impartial,” you said.

“Neither are you. Together we even out, huh?” he said with a smirk. You laughed as you looked at the picture. It was a little dark but you didn’t see anything too unflattering in it. “Permission granted?”

“Go for it lover boy,” you said. The rest of your date went by quickly, your waiter trying to urge you to give up the table until Dean ordered another two slices of pie. It was starting to get late before you both managed to get up, heading out to your car but Dean asked for the keys. “I’m okay to drive.”

“Who said our date was over, sweetheart?” he said, patting the hood of the car. “We got plans.”

You tried to figure out where he was taking you until you were no longer in Lawrence but in the the next town over, heading into some bar you’d never heard of.

“What are we going?” you asked, Dean holding up a finger. You waited and listened, eyes wide when you heard the music.

“No way,” you said, spinning around, spotting the band playing live. “Dean!”

“They’re that little indie band you were telling me about last week, right? When I saw they were playing this close by, I knew we had to go see them,” he said.

“You’re like the best boyfriend ever,” you said, grabbing his hand, pulling him closer. He grabbed a few beers for you and found a table nearby, holding your hand across it as you sat there for two hours listening to them play.

“You’re adorable,” he said when it was a little after midnight, getting another big hug from you as you walked back to the car. “You had fun?”

“A ton. Thank you so much. I didn’t even know they were playing in Kansas,” you said.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he said, throwing his arm over your shoulders, kissing the top of your head as you walked. “I didn’t keep you out too late, did I?”

“No. I got a lot of work done earlier in the week. I can sleep in tomorrow,” you said.

“Carla’s coming into town soon. Would you want to come to lunch with us?” he asked. “She’s sort of like my second mom. She’s dying to meet you.”

“You talk to your agent about me?” you asked. “What do you tell her?”

“That I have the most amazing girlfriend ever,” he said.

“Suck up,” you said, Dean laughing as he handed you the keys. “Yeah, I’d love to meet her.”

 

You hadn’t bothered to look at your phone all night or after you dropped off Dean, settling on plugging it in the charger and crawling into bed. You woke up around eight, glad you really only needed to do a half day today. You picked it up, not used to seeing all of the notifications on it.

Your eyes went wide when you saw the number of instagram followers you now had. You tapped on Dean’s post from the night before of you at dinner, the number of likes and comments obnoxious.

“Dean,” you said, calling him in the middle of breakfast from the way he was slurping milk.

“What’s up, honey?” he asked.

“Did you see your post?” you asked.

“From last night? Uh yeah,” he said.

“Do you always get that many likes on something?” you asked.

“Not always. You’re my most popular one actually,” he said, like he was proud of that. “Are you okay? Do you want me to take it down?”

“I…I guess I sort of forget you’re famous,” you said.

“I’m really not. Do you want me to take it down? I’m okay with that. I want you to be comfortable,” he said.

“You can leave it,” you said. “I’m sort of afraid to look at the comments though.”

“Don’t look at them then. Most of the time I don’t. People are mean,” he said.

“But you’re amazing. Why would people be mean to you?” you asked.

“Now you know how I feel every time I see you being mean to yourself,” he said.

“Keep the picture up, Dean. It’s a good one,” you said, hoping he heard you were alright.

“I’ll swing by at noon to take you to lunch, alright? Call me if you change your mind.”

 

After you got dressed and threw on the headband Dean gave you, you did your best to not read anything. You had a ton of unread texts from “friends” asking who the hot guy was. They hadn’t spoken to you in years and you weren’t about to start up now. You deleted them all, looking at the two voicemails from your parents.

You managed to ignore them most of the morning, getting your work done before your lunch with Dean.

“Oh fuck off,” you said when you finished listening to the first message. You deleted it and almost did the same with the second before you listened to it, gripping your phone so tight you were surprised it didn’t break in half. You deleted it and immediately dialed your dad.

“Hey, pumpkin. Did you get our messages?” he asked.

“Am I some toy for you two to play with and wind up when you’re bored? Have you two ever loved me? I mean, really, have you? I don’t need advice from either one of you on how to have a relationship. What I do with Dean is my business and he cares about me all on my own, he likes me the way I am and I have had it with the both of you,” you said, walking to the family room and punching a pillow.

“Pumpkin, we can see you like the boy but he’s a model. You have to be a little classier than-”

“Shut the fuck up. I’m done. Take your stupid trust fund and shove it up your ass. Never speak to me ever again unless you learn how to be actual fucking adults but don’t worry, I’m not holding my breath. I hope you enjoyed the very little time you spent with me in my life because you’re not getting a second more,” you said, hanging up. “Agh!”

“Y/N?” asked Dean, pushing open the front door. Fuck, he probably heard all that. “You okay?”

“Sure,” you said, wiping off your face, forcing a smile on it when you saw an older woman who looked freezing to death behind him. “You must be Carla.”

“Y/N. Sounds like you still have the shittiest parents in the world, huh?” she said. You gave a half laugh, wiping your hands over your face. “Ain’t nothing I’ve ever seen before, sweetie. I’ve seen Dean cry half a dozen times.”

“Seriously?” said Dean.

“Seriously?” you said, looking at Dean. He didn’t seem like the crying type. You’d seen him have conflict with his family before and even at thanksgiving when he thought Sam hated him but he didn’t cry.

All of your anger suddenly shifted to whoever hurt Dean, whoever that was that made him feel bad. God you were glad he was out of fucking LA and away from those people.

“Yes, boys cry,” said Dean, rolling his eyes. “Carla can you give us a minute?”

“She can stay,” you said. Dean looked surprised, giving you an eyebrow raise. “My parents left a few messages that basically said I’m not good enough for you as I currently am. I called them and told them I no longer have parents so…who wants lunch?”

“Y/N-” said Dean but you held up a hand. “Is a clean break with them what you really want?”

“I think their negativity is having a negative effect on my life. I’ve tried a very long time to make things work and I know they think they are doing the right thing for me but they aren’t. I’m serious. I’m not speaking to them again,” you said. “And I’m happy about that. I’m happy with you and cutting them out of my life will take away some of those bad feelings I still have.”

“Okay,” said Dean with a nod. You were expecting him to argue with you, try to be the bigger person, they were your parents after all and you should cut them some slack. But he just nodded and gave you a smile.

Where the hell did you find him?

“Do you want to wash up your face before we go sweetie?” asked Carla. You nodded and went up to your room, your eyes redder than you were expecting. You got most of the puffiness to go down before you were heading back downstairs, hoping the rest cleared up by the time you got to the restaurant. “So, Y/N. Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“Shoot,” you said, locking up after them, heading to Dean’s car. Dean spun around, Carla shooing him forward.

“Carla,” he said with a groan.

“Girl talk. Go wait in the car,” she said, waving him off. Dean rolled his eyes but did as told, earning a laugh from you.

“You really are like his second mom,” you said.

“He’s the same age as my youngest. It’s kind of hard not to go into mom mode with him sometimes,” she said. “Which is why I wanted to stop you and say thanks.”

“For what?” you asked.

“He’s different. I haven’t seen him like this in a long time. He gets wrapped up in his own head sometimes and a lot of his ‘friends’ take advantage of him. I can tell you don’t,” she said.

“Is this where you tell me if I break his heart you’ll destroy me?” you asked.

“I mean it’s heavily implied, right?” she said with a laugh, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Come on, sweetie. The babe’s got a couple of hot women to take to lunch after all.”

 

“Wow, you look so good,” you said, Dean showing you a picture of Carla from her modeling days.

“It was all makeup. You got a naturally pretty face like Dean. That’s always far more attractive,” she said. You tried to interrupt but she held up a hand. “There’s no negativity here, isn’t that right Dean?”

“Sure, sure,” said Dean, taking a big bite of his double bacon cheeseburger.

“I didn’t want to say this back then but I’m really glad you lost the underwear contract,” said Carla. “You seem so happy here and with your new clients.”

“I liked the people in St. Louis the most. The designer was trying to get Y/N to do a few shots even,” said Dean with a smirk.

“I see why,” said Carla. “But that’s not Y/N’s job is it? It’s yours.”

“Alright, mom,” said Dean with an eye roll, Carla smacking him in the back of the head. “Y/N, a little help here?”

“How long are you in town Carla?” you asked, Dean thankful for the change in conversation.

“Oh, just a few days. I wanted to see Dean before we take a break for the holidays, meet the cute girlfriend he won’t stop talking about,” she said, giving him a wink.

“Carla, do not embarrass me,” he said.

“Oh, you do that all on your own, babe,” she said, pinching Dean’s cheek. You bit your bottom lip, trying to muffle your laugh.

“I knew getting you two together was a bad idea.”


	8. Dean's Bad Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Dean doesn’t show up for their date, the reader goes looking for him and winds up finding him at Dr. Bram’s. But Dean’s having a bad night and he’s looking to the reader to help him through it…

**Friday Night**

After a few days, Carla had to head back to LA, exchanging a present with Dean and making him promise not to open it until Christmas. You could see after spending some time with her why Dean was so grounded despite living in the model world for so long. You knew he was a little bummed that she was gone again so you were planning on taking him out to dinner, a nice place with steak as big as his head.

“Hey Sam,” you said when he answered their door that night. “Dean ready to go?”

“Uh,” said Sam, looking around. “Dean’s not home.”

“Oh. We have a date,” you said.

“I know,” he said. “He’s…somewhere else. He should be home in like ten minutes. I think.”

“Our reservation is at seven thirty so hopefully it’s before that,” you said, rocking back on your heels.

“Dean had a bad day today,” said Sam. You scrunched up your face, trying to coax more out of him but he wasn’t budging.

“Did he fight with your dad again?” you asked.

“Not that I know of. They talked yesterday and seemed like they were doing better. I don’t know what’s bothering him, honestly,” said Sam.

“Do you know where he is?” you asked.

“Yeah. He’s safe. Don’t worry about it,” said Sam.

“He’s at Dr. Bram’s, isn’t he,” you said. Dr. Bram only did half days on Fridays and he always had appointments scheduled to end no later than seven. The only way Dean would be with him right now was if it were an emergency session. “How bad a day did he have, Sam?”

“The model that got the underwear thing after Dean was talking shit about him online and I don’t know why he’s upset. He’s fit and muscular and healthy. The other guy was probably pissed because he only got the gig after Dean left it,” said Sam.

“What time did Dean go?” you asked.

“About twenty minutes ago,” he said.

“Can you do me a huge favor and cancel my reservation?” you asked, hand on the door.

“Yeah. Where are you going?” he asked.

“To see Dean.”

 

Dr. Bram’s office was pretty dark, the front light off but you saw the lights on inside and climbed up the steps. The front door was still open thankfully. You took a seat in the small waiting room, never paying much attention to it since you never had to wait long. The door creaked from the office and you saw Dr. Bram step around the corner, probably some kind of alert on the front door saying someone had come in.

“Y/N,” he said after he’d pulled the door shut. “What are you doing here? Is everything alright?”

“I heard Dean was here,” you said. Dr. Bram looked past you, pursing his lips. “I don’t have to talk to him. I just…wanted to be here…if he wants me…or not…I’ll wait out here or I can go home if you think it’ll upset him if he sees me.”

“You can stay,” said Dr. Bram. “Feel free to use the kitchen or bathroom if you need it.”

“Thanks,” you said, taking off your coat, folding it up and resting it besides you.

“Y/N,” said Dr. Bram. “My focus right now is on Dean but this is a very big step for you being here tonight. I want to talk about this on Tuesday.”

“Okay. You should go back to Dean,” you said. Dr. Bram gave you a nod before he went to the front of the house and pulled the curtains. He made his way back in his office, pulling the door shut. You sat quietly for a while before you went to the bathroom, always liking the cheerful theme it had. You’d never bothered to visit the kitchen before even though it was never off limits. It was very clean and homey like the rest of the office and you made a cup of hot cocoa for yourself.

You made it last for twenty minutes before you went and made another, eventually washing up the mug and texting Sam not to stay up and that you were with Dean.

You played on your phone for a little while, your stomach rumbling after having no dinner yet. You didn’t find much besides a few sweets in the kitchen and sat back on the couch, ignoring your stomach until you knew Dean was alright.

 

A hand was shaking you away, your eyes peeling open from the couch, Dr. Bram giving you a smile. You saw Dean standing in the foyer, looking exhausted and like he just wanted to crawl into bed.

“Y/N, time to go home,” said Dr. Bram. You saw it was nearly eleven, Dean staring at his feet. “Dean would like it if you drove him home and stayed with him tonight. Is that something you’re okay with you?”

“Of course, honey,” you said, sitting upright and throwing on your coat. Dean barely looked at you as he handed you the keys, Dr. Bram holding up a finger.

“Dean. You have an appointment Monday at 3pm. I’ll call Sunday to remind you. Okay?” he asked. Dean just nodded, like he was half-awake. Dean started to head outside, Dr. Bram nodding you to hold back. “Make sure he eats and drinks something before bed, even just a snack. I don’t think he’s had anything today.”

“What do I need to do?” you asked.

“Tonight, take care of him. Tomorrow when he’s up to it, he can tell you what he needs,” he said. “I know this is a very big ask of you.”

“It’s not,” you said. “He’s my boyfriend.”

“Call me anytime if you feel you have to,” he said.

“Is Dean…” you asked.

“He got a little too wrapped up in his own head today is all,” said Dr. Bram.

“Thank you,” you said, letting yourself out. Dean was standing by Baby, back to you. You didn’t say anything until you were in the car driving. “Do you want me to take you to your place or mine?”

“Yours,” he said quietly, looking out the window.

“I’m going to stop at yours and get you some clothes if that’s okay,” you said. He nodded, not moving an inch as you pulled up outside of Sam’s. You plucked off your hat and put it on his head, Dean shifting a little in his seat but the relaxed sigh he let out was a good start.

“Hey,” said Sam, answering the front door for you, Dean looking away to stare at the street. “What’s going on?”

“He’s having a bad day. He’s coming home with me,” you said. “I wanted to get some clothes and a toothbrush for him.”

“Yeah, sure,” said Sam, going upstairs. He came back a few minutes later with a bag of comfy clothes and some toiletries.

“You’ve seen him like this before, haven’t you,” you said.

“Once. Back in the spring. I spent the weekend with him,” said Sam. “He and dad had a big blowout. He pretty much disowned Dean. They didn’t talk again until the accident.”

“Can you try to find out if there was another fight? It might help me help him,” you said.

“What are you going to do?” asked Sam.

“He can hide away at my place for the weekend, get his head on straight,” you said.

“Okay,” he said. “You know, I’ve never seen you without your hat or makeup.”

“I know,” you said. “He needs it more right now.”

“Y/N,” said Sam. “Take care of him. Let me know if you want me to do something.”

“Thanks, Sam,” you said. Sam put a hand on your head, tapping your forehead.

“I’m in the forehead club. I feel special,” he said with a smile, ruffling your hair. “Get going before he makes a run for it.”

You hummed, giving him a hug before you were back in Baby, asking Dean to hold the bag while you went to your place. He was quiet the whole way, even as you got him inside and out of his coat and shoes.

You took his hand and led him upstairs to your room, setting the bag down on the bed. You pulled out a fresh shirt, a pair of boxers and sweatpants and handed them to him.

“Okay, my bathroom is right there,” you said, flicking on the light for him. “Take a hot shower and clean up. I’ll make some dinner.”

Dean nodded once and went inside, turning on the water. You threw some mac and cheese together in a pot and had pretty much eaten your own serving when you heard the water shut off. You dished up a bowl and carried it along with some water upstairs. Dean was on your bed, playing with the string of his sweatpants when you came in. You gave him the bowl but he made no attempts to eat it.

“A few bites and then you don’t have to have anymore if you don’t want,” you said. He sighed but picked up the spoon, actually eating quite a bit more than you were expecting but he must have been starving. He polished off most of his glass of water but pushed it away when you offered more. You put the dishes downstairs, Dean in the same place you left him when you returned.

You turned off most of the lights apart from your one bedside one. You grabbed a long sleeve henley and some pajama pants and changed in the bathroom fast. You settled into your spot on the bed, wrapping your arms around Dean’s chest until he figured out you were trying to pull him to lay beside you. He squirmed a little but then went with it, allowing you to pull your covers up over him.

“Hey,” you said quietly, running a hand through his hair. He buried his face in your neck, a shudder running through him. “You’re okay. I got you, Dean.”

“I’m so tired,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.

“Sleep, honey. I’ll be right here when you wake up,” you said.

“Why am I so tired?” he asked.

“Did you cry a lot today?” you asked, his red and puffy eyes betraying him. Dean hesitated but then nodded. “Crying takes a lot out of you. We can talk in the morning. Right now you get some rest.”

“I don’t…” he said, trying to roll away from you. You caught his shoulders and turned him back, running a hand up and down his back.

“You don’t what, Dean?” you asked gently.

“Deserve,” he said, pulling his head back, looking you in the eye for the first time that night.

“Me?” you asked, Dean nodding. “Oh yes you do. You so do, Dean. You deserve me.”

You wanted to say that you didn’t deserve him, that the thought had been floating around your head for a while. But Dean was your only concern right now and maybe it was a stupid thought to start with considering where you were.

“I’m going to stay right here with you, Dean. You try to sleep and I’ll stay right here,” you said. He shifted his body around, trying to get impossibly close. You shushed him and ran your fingers through his hair until he finally was too exhausted to stay awake.


	9. Dean's Better Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean talks to the reader about what happened the night before and why he was feeling the way he did…

**Saturday**

You woke up to a few fingers lightly tracing over your cheek, moving the hair out of your face. You blinked your eyes open a few times, Dean giving you a small smile from where he lay beside you.

“Hey,” you said, catching his hand and pulling it to your chest.

“Hey,” he said, looking down, forcing his gaze to meet yours. “You have really cute bedhead.”

“You too,” you said, Dean shutting his eyes, tucking himself into you again. You moved your arm around his waist, Dean a million times better than the night before but if he needed another cuddle, you weren’t stopping him.

“I’m hungry,” he said after you felt yourself starting to drift asleep again. You popped open your eyes and leaned over, kissing his forehead.

“I imagine. You didn’t eat much yesterday,” you said. You rolled out of bed and went to the bathroom, returning with a cup of water. “Drink. You’re dehydrated.”

He swallowed it down and then another one, looking a bit more bashful as he was waking up.

“Today I’m taking care of you. You have to tell me if you need something, alright?” you asked.

“You don’t think I’m pathetic?” he asked, staring up at you with big green eyes, like the answer carried too much weight.

“No, Dean. I don’t think that,” you said, wrapping your arms around him. “Brush your teeth and put on clean clothes. Come downstairs when you’re finished up please.”

“Okay,” he said, grabbing his bag and going to the bathroom. You threw on something comfortable and headed downstairs, thankfully finding enough things to whip up a few omelettes. Dean rubbed his stomach when he came in, a new pair of gray sweats and a black henley on. “Smells great.”

“S’almost done if you want to grab yourself a drink,” you said. Dean shuffled around the kitchen, pouring a few glasses of orange juice. You dished up the eggs and set a plate down, urging him to sit while you got the utensils. He polished his off fast and you gave him part of yours, ruffling his hair while you cleaned up the dishes.

“We should talk,” he said.

“Go find a comfy spot on the couch. I’ll be in there in two seconds, I promise,” you said with a smile. Dean made his way to the family room while you grabbed a few bottles of water and bag of trail mix, bringing it with you to the family room and setting it on the end table. You tossed a blanket over Dean and got one for yourself as you settled in next to him, turning on the TV to something quiet and mindless. Dean rested his head on your shoulder and your laced your fingers together with his.

“Yesterday was a bad day,” he said. “I was fighting with my dad again. I went over for lunch and we got in an argument and he said I need to grow the fuck up and get a real job and I wasn’t welcome anymore until I did. The information wasn’t like, new or anything. We’ve had this fight before. But then that other model dude said crap about the way I look and I thought he was right and then I thought dad was right and how much of a loser was I and I was a disappointment and I let everyone down. Then I thought about you and I almost called you because I thought,  _I knew_ , you’d make me feel better but I didn’t want to bother you and that was a bad idea because I just let all that build up in my head until I was convinced no one gave a shit, including you and I know that’s not true but I just felt like I was going to explode. I felt awful because I knew we were supposed to have a date and then I didn’t want to go because I thought you’d realize you made a mistake with me and you’d dump me and I couldn’t handle that so I went to Dr. Bram’s.

“So I was having a bit of a freakout session there and he was trying to understand everything about what was going on since we haven’t talked lately but then he left and came back and said you were outside for me if I needed you. I lost it at that. Because that meant I was so wrong about you and that you cared about me too. I figured I’d be okay, I heard you up and walking around a few times but you never left and I talked to Dr. Bram for a long time about my family and you and how you’re one of the few people that never judged me and you let me in when if I were in your shoes, I wouldn’t have had the guts. I know you’re so much stronger than me and I just knew I could be okay if you let me be with you. I know that’s too fucking much. We’ve been dating like a month, not even, and it’s not fair to you but I can only bother Sammy so much and I know he loves me because he’s my brother but you could walk away whenever you wanted but you didn’t and you’re still here even though I’ve been blabbering for a good five minutes and I know I cried all over you last night but you’re taking care of me and no one’s ever done that,” he said. He wiped his sleeve across his face, taking a tissue from you when you handed it over and then another, fisting the fabric over his hands as he sniffled.

“I think I’m falling in love with you,” you said. Dean tilted his head up, his face unreadable. “And I don’t think I realized it until last night but I am. I never want to see you hurt like that again. It hurts and I don’t know how to stop it and I wish you got along with your dad but Dean, you are a grown up. He doesn’t hold any power over you. I know you want his approval but if he’s going to beat you down until you feel like this, I want you to stay away from him, at least for a little while. I want you to feel better first.”

“I don’t think I’m falling in love with you,” he said. You felt a lump in your throat, Dean’s hand on your cheek. He leaned over and planted a big one on you, his lips salty and swollen and more forceful than normal. “I know I am.”

“Can I revise my previous statement to say I was being a chicken shit just then and I am too?” you said. Dean chuckled and smiled, pulling you in for a kiss again. “I thought you were always so soft with your kisses.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself,” he said.

“That’s okay. I kind of liked it,” you said, giving him a smile. “I’m going to call Sam and let him know you’re doing a bit better. Then I’ll come back and we can spend the whole weekend together on this couch eating takeout. Sound good?”

“Yeah,” he said with a big smile. “Thank you.”

 

**Saturday Night**

“Okay, pizza, pizza. What pizza to order…” you said, handing Dean a menu, staring at one yourself. You had a pretty lazy day, spent in sweats and blankets with hot chocolate, watching the rain on the dreary December day and rom-coms non stop.

It’s was a completely unproductive day but for Dean and you, it was a good one. You knew more about his insecurities, about his problems with his family, about the way he viewed himself. His self-worth wasn’t very high, something he kept hidden fairly well but you opened up to him about your own because of it. You didn’t get into details but he understood and it was like a weight was off you both.

You trusted each other more than ever before.

“Let’s order one cheese and one with everything,” he said.

“Oh, we’re going all out. Fancy,” you said, standing to find your phone to order.

“Only the best for my girl,” he teased. You were gone a few minutes, returning to find Dean passed out on the couch. You sat down next to him, Dean still out, only shifting a little to rest his head on your shoulder.

“I know. Last night took a lot out of you,” you said quietly. “I’ve been there.”

You let Dean have a short nap until the doorbell rang and woke him. He stumbled over to the front door and paid, back with a smile as he carried the pizza boxes into the family room.

“Feeling like you can face the world again?” you asked. He hummed, sitting down before he wrapped his arms around you and tackled you onto the couch, giving you a big, wet kiss. “Dean!”

“Thank you for today…and yesterday. I really needed a lazy day to get my head on straight,” he said.

“Any time,” you said, leaning up and throwing your arms around the back of his neck. You pulled him back into the kiss, Dean chuckling against your cheek.

“I like playful you,” he teased, giving you another, more heated kiss.

“Calm down, we don’t want our food to get cold after all,” you said with a giggle. He sat up and pulled you with him. Quickly he was settled into what he now claimed as “his” side of the couch, a few pieces of pizza piled on a plate in his lap.

As you ate together, you watched him start to get withdrawn again though, Dean subtly shifting away from you on the couch after you’d put away the leftovers.

“Hm,” you hummed, scooting over to him, wrapping your arm around his back and around his waist, giving him a side hug.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“You looked like you were trying to run away from me,” you said.

“It’s getting late. I should go home,” he said, not making an attempt to move.

“Do you want to go home? Not what you feel like you should do but what do you want?” you asked.

“I want to stay again,” he said.

“Then stay. I won’t ever kick you out,” you said.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” he asked.

“Always.”

 

Dean slept like a baby that night, far more relaxed in bed beside you. You knew his problems with his dad weren’t gone but hopefully the next time he started to feel this way, he would come to you.

Sunday was again a lazy day, Dean even asking if Sam could come over. Sam didn’t pry or budge and treated Dean normally, Dean silently giving him thankful looks at not pressing him for anything. You made sure he was comfortable without you being there before you ran out to a few stores, grabbing some much needed groceries.

“Hey, Y/N,” said Sam when you got back. “Dean and I were talking and Christmas is in like a week and he sort of said since you aren’t getting along with your parents right now, would you want to have Christmas with us?” asked Sam.

“Hey, I was gonna ask her,” said Dean, shuffling into the kitchen, helping you put some things away.

“I’d love to,” you said, looking at Dean.

“Oh, don’t tell me you never had one of those either,” he said, frowning as he held a box of Cheerios.

“I’ve had Christmas before but…it’s like, we don’t decorate or do anything besides open presents that everyone talked about beforehand. It never seemed like we did it right,” you said.

“Well,” said Dean, glancing at Sam. “Sam and I talked and I’m going to try to make up with my dad this afternoon. If I can’t, us three will have our own Christmas. No drama, just a good time.”

“That sounds like a plan. I’d like you to wait until tomorrow night though, after…” you said.

“Dr. Bram’s? That’s probably a good idea,” said Dean. “I can talk through it first.”

“When you go over, I’m going too. I’m telling dad to knock it off,” said Sam.

“Okay. Let’s just enjoy the rest of the day before World War three starts.”

 

**Monday Night**

It was six. Sam was home from work and Dean was back from Dr. Bram’s. He seemed confident and knew what he wanted to say. You figured it’d be easier if they called their parents and asked to have dinner, make it less confrontational.

Dean thought having you there might make a fight less likely but honestly, you knew he wanted you there in case things went south.

“Hi mom,” said Sam, walking inside. She greeted the three of you, graciously taking the sweet bread you’d made for dinner. John was watching TV in another room and Dean steered clear of him until Mary was ushering you all around the kitchen table.

“How was work Sam?” asked Mary, knowing a majority of the people at that table didn’t want to be there.

“Good. We wrapped up our big case. Just a bit of paperwork left but I should be able to take a few weeks off for the holidays with no problem,” said Sam, taking a bite of his chicken.

“Y/N how’s that work with you working from home? Do you still get vacation?” she asked.

“Oh yeah. I more or less make my own hours. As long as the work gets done and the businesses are making a profit, they don’t care if it takes me twenty hours or forty to get the job done. Some weeks are more intensive than others but it’s not very stressful. I do very well thankfully,” you said

“I bet your parents are very proud,” she said.

Well, this wasn’t the plan but you looked at Dean and went with it.

“Actually, I don’t have a very good relationship with my parents,” you said, Dean poking at his steamed carrots. “We’re no longer on speaking terms. They never even came to the hospital after the accident.”

Mary looked like she wanted to say that was horrible, John closing his eyes for a moment before he went back to reaching for his beer.

“You know, the son you’ve been disagreeing with recently flew halfway across the country in a moment’s notice for you,” you said, staring at John until he looked your direction. “You’re a shitty dad. You want what’s best for him but do you have any idea what exactly  _you_  are doing to him? Do you have a clue about how he thinks about himself? Let me ask you this. He does not hurt anyone in his job. He does not let anyone take advantage of him, trust me. I’ve met his agent and she’d never let it happen. It is not the most glamorous job in the world, or the most manly job but you know what? He helped put Sam through school. He kept you out of debt. He is well mannered and kind and the guy’s got a far better retirement plan than anyone sitting at this table. The son that you want to grow up and get a real job? He’s the one you sent to check on me in that hospital because you were too scared to do it yourself. He’s the one that was my friend when I needed one and he’s the one that told me it’s okay if I do this,” you said, taking off your hat. “He’s the one that was there for me when I didn’t have anyone. He’s the grown up, not you. So you either need to learn to accept him as is or you’re going to lose him. Period.”

The table was silent, everyone staring at their plates apart from John. He had a hard face most of the time but at the moment, it was almost afraid.

“You’re right,” he said, voice louder than you were anticipating. “I didn’t want to see you. I didn’t ever want to see and frankly, I didn’t ever want to know that the accident I caused is going to have lasting effects on you, probably for the rest of your life. I didn’t want to see what I broke and had to be pieced back together. Which is ironic because I’ve been doing it for a very long time to my kids.”

He turned to Dean, Dean’s head up but he wasn’t looking anywhere near his father.

“When did you start to hate me?” John asked. Dean sighed but John held up a hand. “When did you stop trusting me is a better question?”

“The fire,” said Dean quietly, looking at his lap.

“Because I left you in this house alone. You had to find your own way out,” he said. You looked to Sam, Sam giving you a small nod that it was true. “You were only four and I left you alone. Your mom got Sammy and I was supposed to get you. I said I’d come get you, I told you to stay in your room, didn’t I?”

“You never came back,” said Dean, turning his head, narrowing his eyes at his dad. His fists were clenched in his lap and he took a hard swallow. “You were big and strong and you couldn’t figure out how to get the damn door open. So you left me and I waited and I waited and I waited until I couldn’t breathe. And then I found my own way out the window. The jump could have killed me I was so little. But you weren’t even there. No, I limped around to the front of the damn house and you were there with mom and Sam. You never came back. You were never going to come back. I figured out where I fit in this family very early on.”

“So you’ve hated me since you were four?” asked John.

“I don’t hate you,” said Dean, rolling his eyes.

“Then what?” he said.

“What do you want me to say?” said Dean.

“The truth,” said John.

“Fine. I thought you left me there on purpose,” said Dean.

“What?” said Mary.

“I know that’s not true. You did send me to a shrink after all. It’s what I felt though and it has been stuck in my head for a very long time that this family has never needed me. Why do you think I always try to take care of you guys? It makes me valuable but even that wasn’t good enough and I don’t…” said Dean, taking a deep breath.

“We’re done,” said John. Dean lowered his head a fraction, John tsking him. “Done fighting about this Dean. It was never your job to take care of this family. It’s mine. But you’re an adult and so is everyone here. I’m not going to lose you over this. Do I like that you take off your shirt for a living? No. But you’re a good boy, good man, and if that’s what you want to do to support yourself and your family someday, then that’s your decision and I’ll stand by it.”

“Just like that? You changed your mind?” asked Dean.

“I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want you to resent me like Y/N does her parents because they treated her poorly. I want this family to feel like a family,” said John.

“Would you go to therapy with me?” asked Dean.

“For you, yes,” said John, even though the idea clearly made him uncomfortable.

“Okay then,” said Dean, picking up his fork and going back to dinner. You, Sam and Mary shared a look, like you were possibly expecting more but it didn’t come and both John and Dean went back to dinner like the moment was gone.

“I made a pie for desert,” said Mary. “Chocolate.”

“That’s my favorite,” you said, trying to steer the conversation with her onto a lighter topic.

“Y/N,” said Dean. “Why’d you take off your hat?”

“Because I was trying to make a point,” you said with a shrug, reaching to pull the hat back on but stopping when Dean grabbed your hand under the table.

You could feel his parents staring at the scar, Sam not so much but you’d also spent a lot more time with him and he knew how you felt about it. You swallowed and grabbed the hat from your lap, handing it to Dean.

He had tried so you could try too. It was only four people and two of them you already trusted to see you like that. You could get through one meal.

“Is everyone coming over for Christmas?” asked Sam.

“From the sounds of it. Jo had to get her tonsils out over the weekend but she’s already up and around. Everyone’s planning on coming,” said Mary.

“Y/N’s going to come too,” said Dean.

“She’s more than welcome to,” said Mary with a smile. “You’re moving a little fast you two, don’t you think?”

“No, not really. We haven’t even had a makeout session yet,” said Dean, Mary rolling her eyes. “Have we Y/N?”

“I’m not answering that,” you said, shaking your head at him.

After a while, the tension ran out of the room, John asking the boys to help him bring some decorations up from the basement. You helped Mary with a few dishes before you saw your hat on Dean’s seat and slipped it on.

“Y/N,” said Mary. You turned your attention to her, fixing the hat in place. “The accident wasn’t entirely John’s fault. We were having an argument, over Dean actually but I played a part in distracting him.”

“Do you think I don’t like you or something?” you asked.

“It wasn’t all on John is what I’m trying to say,” she said.

“Mary. He didn’t drive into me on purpose. I don’t hate him. I wish I looked the way I used to but I can’t magically go back in time and stop it from happening,” you said. “I can’t go back in time to stop anything bad that’s ever happened to me. I live with it and I move on.”

“The boys say something like that but it’s a little different,” she said.

“It’s a Dr. Bram thing,” you said with a shrug. “Can we please be done with the awkwardness around here? I don’t think any of us can take anymore.”

“Are you going to wear a hat in this house anymore?” she asked.

“I…” you said, fingers grazing the edge of it.

“You are free to wear it, or not wear it. It’s your choice but no one is going to judge you,” she said, holding up her hand and showing the scar on the back of it.

“Thanks,” you said. “Um, is there anything you need help with? For the holidays? Like cooking or-”

“I normally put the boys in charge of making cookies…which is why I normally end up making them myself,” she said with a smile.

“I can bake some and decorate,” you said.

“Perfect. Make a good few dozen of them. We’ll have close to thirty people here for a most of the week,” she said.

“I’ll make a lot then,” you said. Dean and Sam rounded the corner with their dad, all of them a bit sweatier.

“We should head out. I have to head to Kansas City in the morning for a few…” said Dean, trailing off when his father looked at him. “A few shoots.”

“What are you shooting?” asked John.

“Dad, you really don’t care,” said Dean.

“Maybe I do,” said John with a shrug.

“A truck commercial then some farming work boots commercial. They’re back to back at the same place. It’ll still be a long two days,” said Dean.

“What kind of truck?” asked John.

“Chevy,” said Dean. “I don’t remember the boots off the top of my head. I get to keep the pair from tomorrow though.”

“Do you get to keep the truck?” asked John.

“No,” said Dean with a smile. “But I get a paycheck.”

“It sounds like you’re keeping busy,” said John. “Make sure you remember to eat something tomorrow. You always forget when you’re working hard.”

“I know,” said Dean. “I guess we should head out. We all got work in the morning.”

“Okay. We’ll see you kids soon,” said Mary. “And Sam-”

“I know. I’m over this weekend to help put up the lights,” said Sam with a smirk. “Night guys.”

 

“Well, that went good, right?” asked Dean as he headed for your place.

“Not at all what we had planned,” said Sam, looking over the front bench at you, flashing a big grin in your direction. “You were something else.”

“I don’t want what happened to my family to happen to yours,” you said, staring out the window. “Did that thing with the fire really happen?”

“Yeah,” said Dean quietly. “I know I twisted it in there. I know I wasn’t left behind. I know a firefighter dragged him out of the house but it just…”

“You don’t have to explain,” you said as you pulled up outside your place. “You guys both have work early. I think you should stay at your place tonight.”

“Kicking me out?” teased Dean.

“Maybe when you come back you can have a drawer,” you said, giving him a wink and Dean biting his bottom lip in return.

“Oh God, you two are disgusting,” said Sam, fake gagging in the passenger seat.

“I’ll take you up on that drawer,” said Dean, leaning back in his seat to give you a kiss.

“Text me,” you said when you sat back. “Sam too.”

“Alright, alright. Now get that cute tush out of here so I can watch it walk to your door,” he said.

“Night boys.”


	10. Green Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader gets a little homework assignment from Dr. Bram before the holidays…

**Tuesday Night**

“Hi Dr. Bram,” you said, rushing into his office a few minutes late. “Sorry. I was Christmas shopping.”

“That’s alright,” he said, setting a cup of hot chocolate down on the coffee table. “Find any good deals?”

“Yeah. My list isn’t too long but everything’s on sale so might as well buy for me too,” you said.

“Good! It sounds like you did a little taking care of you today then,” he said. “What’d you do the rest of the week?”

“Uh, I did yoga most days, I went to bed early a few times and actually got a whole night of sleep, ate some pizza and didn’t feel guilty,” you said with a shrug. “I’ve sort of been focused on Dean these past few days.”

“Dean shared with me what you did for him over the weekend,” said Dr. Bram. “To be honest, I was not expecting to see you last Friday night.”

“I’ve been where he was and I did it alone, I mean, apart from you,” you said. “But I didn’t really think about it. I wanted to be here if he needed me. That was it.”

“You took care of someone in a very loving way. You showed a lot of responsibility, strength, even a bit of intimacy in a way. You care for him and I’ve seen over the past few weeks that you are opening yourself up to him more, aren’t you?” he asked.

“He’s a good guy,” you said. “He’s just…different.”

“We’re all different. But finding someone who fits with you makes life a bit more fun,” he said.

“Yeah. I’m up to four people that’ve seen me without my hat,” you said with a smile.

“Well look at that,” said Dr. Bram. “I see the world is still turning too.”

“Oh? Sarcastic? I must be doing well if you’re dropping the shrink act a bit,” you teased.

“You’ve made a lot of progress lately. It might not seem like it but you have,” he said, crossing his legs and leaning back in his seat. “So, any word from your parents?”

“Nope,” you said.

“Did you buy them any presents?” he asked. “A card?”

“No,” you said.

“Why not?” he asked. You sighed, folding your hands over in your lap.

“Because they make me feel bad,” you said. “I love them, I do but they aren’t helping me anymore. It’s not even about the scars or the surgery or the almost dying thing. Since I was a little kid, I felt like I’ve been in their way. As I got older, they gave me independence but…it just made me realize they were waiting until they could spend less and less time with me. I haven’t even seen them in the flesh in three years. I’m tired of waiting for them to want me. I found someone who does. I found a crazy, screwed up family full of its own problems and they like me. They invite me to holidays and traditions and my boyfriend’s mom is nicer to me than my own ever has been.”

“Your mother did come with you to a session once,” said Dr. Bram.

“She told me I was stupid and maybe I’d learned a lesson,” you said. “If you recall, you ordered her out after that and banned her from ever coming back until she learned to have some compassion.”

“What I think of your parents is not the issue,” he said.

“My parents throw money at problems to fix them. They threw me at you. Dr. Bram, you have helped me, honestly, and I’m glad you made me keep coming. I am embarrassed that I come here sometimes and I don’t always want to come every week, but I do because you helped me. And I’m done with trying to salvage a relationship that was broken to start with. It’s unhealthy and I want to move on with my life. I finally feel like I am moving on. I think I might even be happy. Why do I have to have them around if they’re only going to make me feel bad again?”

“You don’t,” he said. “My personal opinions aside, I hoped you could reconcile with your parents. But as you say, they are a large source of your stress and anxieties. Now if they were to change their behavior, would you be willing to reconnect with them?”

“Yeah. I’m not going to hold out hope is all. They can come to me if they decide to do that,” you said. “I know it’s not what you wanted but you also tell me to cut out unhealthy things in my life and they’re one of them.”

Dr. Bram stood up and went to his desk, rifling through a bottom drawer you’d never seen him in. He pulled out a little gray box and tossed it to you. You turned it around in your hand, Dr. Bram chuckling as he took a seat.

“You can open it,” he said.

“What is it?” you asked, popping open the lid. “You gave me an empty box because-“

“It’s not empty,” he said. You looked back in the box, spotting the white colored card in it. “I want you to write down something on the card. Obviously not a lot because the card is small but write down a hope you have. Anything at all.”

“We’ve done this before,” you said.

“Not quite this. Just do what I said,” he said. You grabbed the pen off the coffee table and twiddled it for a moment.

You jotted something down, Dr. Bram nodding for you to put the lid back on the box.

“Give it here,” he said. You handed it back and he went to his desk, grabbing a ribbon and tying a bow on it.

“Uh, what are you doing?” you asked. “You didn’t even look at it.”

“It’s not for me. It’s for you,” he said, placing the box in his other bottom drawer. “You can have it someday when you’re ready for it.”

“Dr. Bram, you’re confusing the hell out of me,” you said.

“Forget about the box,” he said, taking a seat. “So how else was your week?”

You told him about what happened with Dean’s parents and more about the weekend, how Dean had stayed overnight and you were getting closer to him. Dr. Bram didn’t talk as often as he normally did but you didn’t mention it until your time was up.

“Uh, are you alright? You’re like extra quiet tonight,” you said.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said, giving you a smile after a slight pause. “Listening too of course.”

“About?” you asked.

“The next steps for you,” he said.

“Like…” you said, knowing whenever you fished for answers he didn’t give them.

“Homework assignment,” he said.

“Come on, Christmas is next week,” you groaned.

“And I will not be seeing you until after the New Years,” he said. “That’s two whole weeks.”

“Fine. What is it?” you asked.

“I’ve never given homework that required a partner before but lucky for you, I have someone in mind,” he said.

“Let me guess. Green eyes. Handsome. Name starts with Dean and ends in Winchester?” you asked.

“He already knows your homework assignment. It won’t take very long to do either,” he said.

“The suspense is killing me Dr. Bram,” you deadpanned.

“You’re going to sit with each other and look each other in the eye for five minutes. One of you looks away, you call the other out on it and start over. Understand?” he asked.

“Yeah but I don’t see the point,” you said.

“Maybe you will,” he said with a smile. “But I don’t have anything further unless you wanted to discuss something else.”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. You stood up and reached into your bag, holding out a small box.

“Y/N. You know my rules against presents,” he said.

“Live a little Dr. Bram,” you said, forcing it in his hands. He sighed but took it, ripping off the wrapping paper. “You like it?”

“You got me a giant pack of gum,” he said with a laugh.

“You’re always chewing on pen caps. This is better for your teeth,” you said.

“Alright. You’re allowed to give me gum,” he said with a chuckle. “Have a good holiday, Y/N.”

“You too, doc.”

 

You spent most of Wednesday working, finishing up some last minute items so your clients could take a few weeks off to be worry free. You cleaned out a bottom drawer of your dresser for Dean, really thinking about what that meant.

Was staying over a regular thing now? Before it had only happened because you accidentally fell asleep on his couch or because he desperately needed someone by his side.

Were you going to start staying over his place? What was he expecting if you started sleeping next to each other every night?

You’d been together three weeks and like Dean said, hadn’t even kissed more than a few seconds at a time. Was that normal? Or did you gross him out and he was too nice to say anything?

“Fuck girl,” you said to yourself, laying back on your bed. “You don’t even want to do that crap. Don’t get worked up over him being a gentleman.”

“How am I a gentleman?” asked Dean from your doorway. You bounced off the bed, Dean chuckling and looking absolutely exhausted. “Hello to you too.”

“You snuck up on me,” you said, taking a deep breath. “How did you get in?”

“Front door was open. I figured you got my text and left it like that for me,” he said, setting a backpack down on the floor.

“Oh,” you said, Dean pouting at you, obviously catching that you hadn’t.

“Did you forget to lock it?” he asked. You shook your head and Dean held out a hand. “Come here, Y/N.”

You walked over next to him and let him wrap his arm around yours, walking with you downstairs. He stared at the door and then lock, pulling it open and twisting the knob.

“Has your doorknob always been loose?” he asked.

“Pretty much. It’s hard to get the key to work sometimes,” you said.

“You changed the locks when you moved here, right?” he asked.

“My dad did,” you said, Dean humming. “Did someone-“

“No, no. I’m pretty sure your lock is just bad,” he said.

“Oh,” you said, wrapping an arm around yourself.

“We’ll stay at my place tonight and I’ll run to the store first thing and put in new locks for you,” he said with a smile.

“You can do that?” you asked.

“S’not hard, sweetheart. I am pretty handy,” he said, kissing your temple. “You can even help.”

“Can you do all the doors?” you asked.

“I was planning on it. I gotta make sure my girl’s safe,” he said, shutting the door. “I’m gonna hit the head if you want to pack a bag.”

“A bag? It’s only one night,” you said.

“I was thinking you might want one of those drawers too,” he said, flashing you a wink as he headed down the hall. He was gone before you could answer and all those thoughts from before were in your head. You trudged upstairs and threw a few things in a duffel, Dean coming up after a minute. “Y/N? You know…I want you to have a drawer so if you decide to stay over, you have something comfortable and clean. That’s all I’m saying it is too. Not…I’m not talking about us having sex or anything.”

“You heard me earlier,” you said.

“A bit,” he said. “We don’t have to do any of that stuff if you don’t want.”

“Someday you’ll want to,” you said.

“Someday you’ll want to,” he said with a shrug. “I know you’re still hurt under there and you got other scars. I don’t want you showing me your body until you want to show me.”

“That might never happen,” you said.

“I can be patient,” he said. “You never thought I’d get to see that beautiful forehead either.”

He walked over and gave you a kiss on your scar, resting his forehead against yours.

“If you ever feel like I’m pressuring you-“

“You’re not. You definitely have not done that,” you said, glancing up at him, Dean right there and smiling so softly at you that you had to look away.

“We’ll wait until we’re both ready,” he said, not moving away.

“Are…are you doing our homework assignment?” you asked.

“I thought we could get it out of the way,” he said, wearing a smirk. You blinked and looked back at him and he had a lot of freckles now that you were staring at his face.

“You’re very handsome,” you said.

“Thank you,” he said. “You’re very beautiful. I love your eyes. They’re so big and bright.”

“No they’re not. They look tired,” you said.

“I guess you should see them when you look at me then, huh?” he said. You glanced away, your cheeks full of heat. “Oh, we have to start over now, beautiful. What a shame.”

“You are a dorky loser,” you said, looking back at him, Dean’s face getting flush as you looked at him. “Who’s blushing now?”

“You’re the one smiling like an idiot,” he said.

“I learned from watching you,” you teased, Dean looking away and laughing. “Start over, Dean.”

“Do you even understand the point of this?” asked Dean when he settled back in, making goofy faces less than an inch from your own.

“Nope,” you said.

“Me either,” he said. “I figure it’s some couples thing.”

“All it’s doing is making me see what a giggly boy you are,” you said, leaning forward and kissing him.

“That’s not fair,” he teased. “You were laughing first.”

“Maybe it’s supposed to make us laugh?” you asked.

“Maybe it’s so I can look at your pretty face for five minutes and you have to watch,” he said, giving you a smirk.

“You’re looking at my eyes, honey,” you said with a laugh.

“I’m looking at you,” he said. You could feel the tingling in your veins the longer you stared. Not uncomfortable. The opposite of that actually. You were calming down the longer you looked into those green eyes. They were so pretty, so expressive and it felt so nice to just stop and realize he was yours. This Adonis. This pretty southern model. This boy that was kinder to you than anyone ever had been. “You’re crying.”

“It’s happy,” you said, Dean chuckling. You had to wipe your eye eventually, Dean throwing his arms around you and picking you up, spinning you around the room. “Dean!”

“You’re so cute,” he said, setting you down.

“You’re so tired,” you said, running your finger behind his ear. He nodded but still picked up his bag and yours. “How close were you to breaking?”

“Pft. Like I’d tell you,” he said.

“You were getting a little misty eyed, weren’t you,” you said.

“I do not cry,” said Dean, jogging down the stairs, watching you throw on a coat, hat and boots.

“I’ve seen you cry, like a lot,” you said. Dean didn’t duck his head down like he was ashamed though.

“I’ve seen you cry, like a lot,” he said back, giving you a big smile. “No more crying for a while. We both are in a lot better headspaces now, aren’t we?”

“Well, apart from the fact I hope no one steals anything from my house tonight,” you said. Dean waved you outside and handed you a bag, pulling the door shut after him and locking up.

“No one’s gonna take anything,” he said, ruffling your head and yawning. “Mind if I ask a favor?”

“I’ll drive,” you said. “No problem at all.”


	11. Staying Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader spends the night at the Winchester’s…

“Hey, Y/N,” said Sam when you snuck down to the kitchen for a snack after Dean flopped into bed. “You sleeping over?”

“Mhm,” you said, Sam grabbing a bag of popcorn from the microwave, pouring it into a bowl.

“Want to watch something? It’s not that late. Unless you want to listen to the snores of the older Winchester,” he said.

“Sure,” you said, Sam handing you the bowl, settling onto the couch and flipping something on.

“So…you and Dean?” asked Sam. You weren’t sure what the question was but you gave him a smile, hoping that would suffice. He laughed, grabbing a handful of popcorn. “You guys getting serious?”

“I don’t know. It hasn’t been that long,” you said.

“Dean told a girlfriend once he used to go to therapy when he was a kid. She called him a freak,” said Sam. You frowned, Sam popping a few pieces in his mouth. “I’m only telling you this because you’re the first girlfriend Dean’s ever had that I like. I mean, you’re my friend too.”

“Thanks?” you said, eating a piece, Sam chuckling and kicking his feet up on the ottoman.

“I’m saying the only girlfriend I’ve ever heard Dean talk about like he’s some love struck puppy is you,” he said. “You get him.”

“I found out thirty minutes ago that he’s handy. I don’t know him that well,” you said.

“That’s a thing he’s good at, it’s not who he is,” said Sam. “You know him. The important bits. Even the loser, dorky side.”

“Says the guy I saw reading case law for fun,” you said, Sam throwing an arm over your shoulders, giving you a noogie. “You Winchesters, I swear…”

“You joined the crazy all on your own. Welcome to it.”

 

After a few episodes of House Hunters, you found your way up to Dean’s room. It’d obviously been meant for a guest before, the style simple and plain with a tan comforter and white bedding. Dean’s backpack was shoved up against a wall along with your bag, a computer on a small desk in there, a few stacks of paper as well that you assumed were related to work.

You pulled back the covers and settled in with Dean, leaving space between the two of you. You frowned as you stared at the ceiling. Should you get closer? Farther away? The room was a little cool and you wouldn’t mind a blanket.

You were about to get up and grab the one you saw thrown over the back of the chair when Dean sighed softly, rolling in bed and landing his arm over your waist. He mumbled as he tightened his grip around your body, using half your pillow for himself, letting out another breath as his body heat started to warm you up. His hair tickled the back of your neck, his rhythmic breathing lulling you to sleep faster than you were anticipating.

A pair of lips pressed against your shoulder in a kiss, pulling a smile to yours.

“Night, Dean.”

 

**Thursday**

“Morning,” said Dean, smiling as you woke up. You stretched in bed, yawning as you rolled closer to him. You buried your head in his chest and fisted your hands in his shirt, closing your eyes as he started to giggle. “Wake up sleepy head.”

You shook your head and tucked yourself in closer, Dean’s whole body rumbling with a laugh.

“To think last night I was afraid to give you a cuddle. Turns out you’re a natural little spoon,” he said. You raised your head up, getting a kiss on the nose. “You were stiff as a board. I thought I crossed a line.”

“Nope. Permission to cuddle granted,” you said.

“You sure?” he asked.

“Mhm,” you said. You shifted your head down, taking in just how big Dean’s biceps were for the first time. He was strong but you never thought about it much, Dean always coming across as gentle to you more than anything else.

“You checking me out?” he teased, flexing his arm, laughing halfway through the motion.

“You’re muscly,” you said, reaching a hand up to touch one, giving it a light squeeze. “You’re strong.”

Dean shrugged, brushing his hand over your arm, letting it trace down the sleeve. You wished you’d worn short sleeves to bed, could feel his finger dancing along your skin.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” he asked quietly, finding a piece of your hair to play with as you lay there.

“I have a scar on my arm. A big one,” you said. Dean hummed, continuing to run his long fingers through the strands, twirling a few pieces and smiling to himself. You moved away a few inches and took your sleeve, pushing it up. You held out your arm for Dean to see. He was only seeing about half of it, the rest continuing up to your bicep. It was thicker than the one on your head and hadn’t faded. It was a bright, nasty, red. A jagged line that looked scary and twisted.

Dean wrapped a few fingers around your wrist and pulled your arm closer, leaning down to kiss your arm. He moved his head up to capture your lips, running his thumb over the scar gently.

“Huh,” he said when he inched back, sporting a happy little smile. “You got even more beautiful just now. How lucky am I?”

He was such a dork and it was exactly what you needed to hear. You didn’t want to say how terrified you’d been, how scared you were that he’d change his mind. You were still a little nervous to let him see the rest of that particular scar but you knew as soon as you did show him, you’d know how wrong you were to be afraid.

“We should get up. It’s already ten,” said Dean, nuzzling his scuff against his cheek. “We got some chores to do and don’t you have work?”

“I finished up yesterday. I’m all set until the new year,” you said, a wicked smile growing on Dean’s chest.

“So you’re saying I can have as much uninterrupted time with you as I want?” he asked.

“I do need to bake cookies at some point,” you said. “But otherwise, yes.”

“Mmm, thanks for the early Christmas present,” he said, kissing your cheek and rolling out of bed.

“Five more minutes?” you asked. Dean bit his bottom lip and crawled back in bed, burrowing himself beside you. “Thank you.”

“Any time.”

 

“Hey, Y/N, can you hand me the screwdriver?” asked Dean, squatting at your front door with the new lock in the fitting. You jogged downstairs and grabbed it from the tool box you kept in the garage. “Thanks, sweet-”

You looked around, Dean wearing another smile when you turned back. You rubbed your bare arm, not even remembering the last time you wore a short sleeve shirt.

“I like that color,” he said. “It’s a pretty maroon. It goes with your eyes.”

“I didn’t know I was in the presence of such a fashion expert,” you teased, handing him the screwdriver.

“Oh yes,” he said with a chuckle. “I’m full of fashion knowledge.”

“Really?” you asked, Dean shaking his head.

“No. I’m an idiot about that stuff. You can’t screw up jeans and flannel though,” he said, holding one side of the knee doorknob as he screwed it in. “Okay. As soon as this one is done, you can help with the one to the garage and…while I do love this new look on you, you might want to throw on your jacket. It’s pretty chilly working in the doorway.”

“Alright,” you said, Dean seeming to have finished up by the time you tugged on a jacket and pulled on your boots.

“Okay. First we take out the old one,” he said, handing you the screwdriver.

Ten minutes later Dean was holding the doorknob as you screwed it into place.

“Well look at you,” said Dean with a smirk. “Acting like a homeowner.”

“Careful or I’ll make you clean my gutters,” you said.

“Okay little dork, one more and then we can do whatever we want for the day.”

 

“Guess what I got…” said Dean. You turned around in the hardware store, Dean bringing you with him this time after he insisted you needed more than a screwdriver and hammer at the house.

“Is that a Christmas tree?” you asked, staring at the small box.

“Yeah! It’s one of those short ones. I picked out a white one, it’s pre lit,” he said, patting the box.

“What’s the tree for?” you asked.

“Your house, duh,” he said. “We should decorate a little bit.”

“Why?” you asked.

“Y/N,” said Dean, blinking a few times. “Have you really never put up a tree?”

“Not really. But weren’t we going over your parents this weekend to help decorate over there before the rest of your family comes into town?” you asked.

“Yeah but I want to do a little something for you too,” he said. “This is gonna be your tree.”

“Can we get a green one then?” you asked. Dean nodded and headed back down an aisle.

You grabbed a box of ornaments and a tree skirt to go with it, Dean smiling the whole time. He tossed a stocking in the cart too but when you got home, he just shoved it in the trunk of his car. It didn’t take long to get the thing out of the box and for Dean to help you put it together.

It was tiny and cute and you were sort of glad he’d insisted on it.

“Want to make some lunch and watch a cheesy Christmas movie?” he asked.

“You’re on.”

 

“Hey, Dean,” you asked at dinner, Dean humming. “You and your dad went to a session together earlier today and I was just wondering how that went. You seem pretty happy so I was hoping it went good.”

“Yeah,” said Dean with a nod. “He’s never actually gone to a session before. Mom has but Dad never saw the point. But he went and we ended up staying like two hours and to be honest, I was sort of terrified when we walked in there. He uh, he was good though. He listened to me and Dr. Bram and he even started talking and a lot of crap does stem back to that fire. Dad’s got his own issues, which I knew, but he doesn’t talk about feelings or stuff like that so to hear him like that was weird but nice.”

“What’d he say?” you asked.

“Basically, he never forgave himself for not getting me out of that house the night of the fire. He felt like he let me down, didn’t protect me. He said that’s why he was always so hard on me, wanting me to be safe. It’s where the model thing came into play because he gets scared that I let people take advantage of me and treat me a certain way and he just wanted out of that environment because he was scared and then he just started crying which I was like, I’ve never seen before in my life and he wanted me to be safe but he thought…he didn’t realize that he was hurting me worse than the job ever did. He feels pretty fucking guilty over that now but he wants to be a better dad and person and he’d like to thank you for tearing him out a new one to get him to finally see what’s been going on all these years,” said Dean.

“I told you he loved you,” you said. Dean smiled, giving you a nod.

“I always knew but I know we’re gonna get better now. Best Christmas present I could have ever gotten and I have you to thank for that,” said Dean.

“I didn’t do anything,” you said.

“Yeah you did. Thanks, sweetheart. Really, thank you.”


	12. Date Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and the reader go out on their first fancy date…

**Friday Night**

Dean had stayed over your place on Thursday, the rest of the day spent lazily on the couch.

He wanted to take you out to eat tonight though, to a nice place. You knew you were worrying about a dress and that you didn’t have one with a high collar or long sleeves.

You were ready to call Dean up and ask if you could go some place else when the doorbell rang. You’d gotten everything you’d been ordering lately, surprised when you had to sign for the big box from LA.

Once you got the cardboard open, you saw a white box inside with a card on top.

**_*This is from a new line. I thought you might like something a bit warmer for those freezing cold Kansas winters! I think Dean will like this one too ;)_ **

**_-Carla XO_ **

You pulled the box out and set it on your table, peeling off the lid.

“Carla,” you said, moving aside the tissue paper and pulling out a black dress. A very elegant dress with sleeves and a collar that would cover the scar on your collarbone perfectly.

You held out the dress and put it up to yourself, the dress hitting just above your knees but with a pair of stockings, you’d be warm. It just felt soft and not like some cheap thing off the rack. There was no tag and no size but somehow you knew it’d fit.

You took it upstairs and tried it on, whistling to yourself in the mirror.

“Carla, where did Dean find you…” you said, turning around, somehow the thing actually making you look hot and grown up at the same time.

Your phone rang and you grabbed it off the bed, smiling when you answered.

“Listen. The boy has been dying to take you to that very nice restaurant to be a gentleman and all because he is very sweet, he’s very cocky and dirty sometimes, but very sweet. He would never in a million years say it to your face but he really wants to take you and the dress was free so no if’s or but’s. I don’t know if it covers what you want but I really tried not to find some old lady thing,” she said. “And I-“

“Carla. I love it,” you said, running your free hand over it.

“Well you better. I was up half the night finding the perfect one,” she said.

“Did Dean ask you to do this?” you asked.

“No comment,” she said.

“Uh huh,” you said. “What’d he say? Woman to woman.”

“He said to find you something that made you feel as beautiful as you are,” she said.

“Excuse me?” you said.

“I’m not speaking verbatim but you get the gist. Something pretty that covered you up but made you feel good. He’s been texting me all day asking if he should call if off. He’s worried about making you mad, like some conversation with your mom and a dress?” said Carla.

“She said I needed to class myself up. Dean just wants to take me to the best restaurant in Lawrence and show me off,” you said with a smile. “He’s the model and he wants to show me off.”

“I do not understand this warped sense of self-image you have, sweetie. You are very beautiful. Hell, I’d take you on as a client, no questions asked if you did this kind of work,” she said.

“Carla. When I take off my shirt, I am covered in ugly red lines. It looks awful. I appreciate it but I’m not like you or Dean,” you said, sitting down on the bed.

“You were like this before the scars, Y/N. Trust me, I’ve been there,” she said.

“I get what Dean says about you being a second mom,” you said.

“You ever need to talk, about guys or anything, really, give me a call. It’s good to have someone to talk to,” she said. “Woman to woman.”

“Woman to woman, this dress is hot,” you said.

“Hey, we got to tease him a little bit,” she said with a laugh.

“Thank you Carla. No more presents,” you said.

“It’s a Christmas present. Every girl needs at least two little black dresses,” she said.

“I only have one,” you said.

“Well the next one I’ll make sure shows off some more skin,” she said.

“Goodnight Carla,” you said.

“Have fun tonight,” she said.

You tossed your phone on the bed and went into the bathroom, looking yourself over again. It matched your headband perfectly but you glanced at your makeup drawer.

As long as you didn’t accidentally wipe it off your face again, you’d probably be okay to go out without it.

You shimmied out of the dress and put it on the bed, climbing into the shower and taking a nice long one. You washed your hair and dried it, heating up your curler.

God, you’d been dating him close to a month and you’d never once dressed up.

You went for loose waves at the ends instead of curly curls, eventually finding a happy medium. The makeup hid your scar and the restaurant would be a little dim anyways. You did the rest of your face but then washed it off, getting a weird feeling that was too much. You started over, lightly touching up a few spots this time and the end result much better. Your eyes didn’t take long to do but then you were staring at your lips.

Why couldn’t you have his perfect pink lips?

You grabbed a tube of pink, frowning as you turned it up. It was too bright and fun. You weren’t going out to a party, it was a restaurant.

Normally chapstick was your go to but lipstick would go better with what you’d already done.

You picked up a tube of red and then a slightly brighter red, staring at them both. You undid the first cap and then the other. It wasn’t that much of a difference. You dragged the darker one along your bottom lip, pushing your lips together to see how much came off. You wiped it off and did the brighter one this time, much cleaner than than other and you didn’t have to worry about it getting on your teeth so much.

You threw on the dress and found a pair of slick black heels you hadn’t worn since college in your closet. After finding a black clutch that would work, you heard the doorbell ring.

“It’s can’t already be that late,” you said, turning your head, the clock arguing against you. “I took two fucking hours? God, I’m such a chick.”

You grabbed your heels and clutch, jogging down the stairs. You fixed your dress one last time, pulling the door open as you saw Dean reaching to push the button again.

He stared at you, letting his hand drop to his side, blinking as he looked you up and down more than once.

“Wow,” he said, shaking his head. “Fuck, you look amazing.”

“Uh, thanks,” you said, rubbing the back of your head, Dean chuckling as he stepped inside. He moved his hand from behind his back, revealing a bouquet of white flowers. “Oh. This is beautiful.”

“It’s a winter bouquet thing…I thought everybody does roses,” he said swallowing, his cheeks flushing.

“Are you shy right now?” you asked, taking a sniff of the flowers, not too strong and very pleasant.

“I didn’t want to screw up tonight. I assume you know about Carla,” he said, looking at his feet.

“You wanted me to feel comfortable is all. I think that was very sweet of you,” you said, kissing him on the cheek. He smiled, chuckling when you turned towards the kitchen to put the flowers in a vase. “What?”

“You got no idea how good you look,” he said. You rolled your eyes, finding a vase in a cupboard. You slipped into your heels, Dean chuckling again when you grew in front of him, his eyes going to your legs.

“My eyes are up here,” you teased.

“I’m just checking out what’s mine,” he said, biting his bottom lip after you pulled on your coat. “Ladies first.”

 

“Dean,” you said, gulping after you were seated and staring at the drinks menu. “This place is super expensive.”

“I’m buying,” he said, flipping over the menu. “Does bourbon go good with steak? I know red wine does. You like both though, right? Maybe I’ll get a glass of each and then stick to water after that.”

“Dean,” you said, tapping his wrist, his eyes flickering across the table to you. “It’s too expensive.”

“Sure it’s a little pricey but it’s not like this is a regular thing,” he said. “We had McDonald’s on Sunday, case and point.”

“I should pay for-”

“Nope,” he said, taking your drink menu from you. “I am taking you out to dinner and paying like a proper gentleman.”

“Since when have you been proper?” you asked, Dean flashing you a smile.

“Why are you so worried about the money?” he asked. “I’m not strapped for cash or anything.”

“You didn’t get me anything big for Christmas, did you?” you asked.

“I spent a grand total of $17 dollars on your presents,” he said with a smile. “Cheap enough for you?”

“Okay, I might have spent like $25 so…” you said, Dean tsking you.

“Totally unacceptable. Way too much. Are you just  _made_  of money?” he teased, laughing when you rolled your eyes.

“Alright, I deserved that,” you said, Dean reaching his hand across the table, yours slipping into it.

“You know, I’m a sucker for red lipstick,” he said.

“I’ve been so nervous I haven’t even told you how good you make that suit look, have I?” you said, Dean glancing down at his navy dark gray suit. “You even look like that guy in the ad.”

He pursed his lips and shook his head, failing to fight back the smile creeping onto his face as your waiter came over.

“Excuse me but doesn’t my boyfriend look the man in those suit commercials?” you asked. The waiter took a confused look at Dean, cocking his head.

“Very much so,” he said, Dean rolling his eyes at you when the waiter turned to you. “What would like to drink miss?”

“I think I’ll have a glass of the house red and some water please,” you said. “Dean?”

 

“So…” said Dean smiling as he looked away from you after you’d finished dinner and were poking at desert. “I know last time I asked I got shot down but if I were to ask you to dance…”

You looked over to the dance floor on the other side of the restaurant, some light and quiet music playing from somewhere. There were a few couples dancing, along with what looked like a father and a little girl.

“We don’t have to,” said Dean.

“I don’t really like dancing,” you said, turning to face him. You stood up, holding out your hand.

“I still have to pay,” said Dean, tilting his head.

“We’re going to go dance,” you said, opening your hand a few times. “Come on.”

Dean stood up, albeit confused, but slid his hand over yours, following you through the tables until you got to the floor. You threw your arms up around his neck, Dean’s hands resting on your hips, slowing moving his own.

“I thought you said you don’t like dancing,” he said, swaying back and forth with you.

“I don’t,” you said, staring up at him, looking into his eyes.

“Then why are we doing this?” he asked, starting to turn with you, the song changing in the background.

“Because I’m pretending that there’s no one else here right now and when I do that, I think I might actually like dancing with you,” you said. Dean sighed, a funny little smile on his face. “Am I sweet talking you too much?”

“You’re something else,” he said, kissing you. Your heart was going a mile a minute and it felt like everyone in the whole place must have been watching you with this handsome man, whispering you weren’t good enough to be with him.

When he moved his lips back, he rested his forehead on yours, smiling at you like you were the only thing in his world.

“Y/N,” he said, moving easily with you around the same small patch of floor, back and forth. You focused on him, how nice it felt in this little bubble with him.

“Yeah, Dean?” you asked.

“Thank you for dancing with me,” he said.

“Anytime, Dean.”


	13. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader has an off morning and ends up spending some time with Dean’s cousins…

**Saturday**

“Y/N, slow poke, we’re supposed to be at my parents in like ten minutes to help decorate. Let’s get a move on,” said Dean, knocking on your bathroom door.

You were still in your pajamas, sitting on the bench inside. Last night had been wonderful and it’d been the best date you’d ever been on. You could feel yourself falling for him and last night it’d felt so right and perfect.

This morning as you were brushing your teeth though, you had the overwhelming urge to run away from him. Everything was too perfect and nothing ever worked out that well for you.

“Y/N?” you heard Dean say again.

“Why don’t you go without me? I’m not feeling good,” you said through the door, wincing at lying to him.

“You okay? Need anything?” he asked. You squeezed your eyes shut and rubbed your palms against your head.

“I don’t know,” you said, tucking your head in your arms. Dean knocked again and slowly opened the door, plenty of time for you to tell him to stop if you’d wanted that.

“Honey,” said Dean, kneeling down in front of you, placing a hand on your head. “Do you have a headache?”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you said, lifting your head, Dean instantly understanding the look in your eyes.

“Nothing,” he said, putting one arm under your legs, the other around your back as he picked you up bridal style. You squeezed your eyes shut as he carried you downstairs and set you on the couch. He wrapped a big blanket around you, a bit confining but you felt a little better with it on. Dean was gone for five minutes and came back with some tea, making you drink some before he pulled you into his lap.

“This is what I was freaking out about. You’re too perfect, Dean. Last night was great and it’s gonna hurt like hell when it falls apart,” you said.

“Who says it’ll fall apart?” he asked, wrapping his legs and arms around you. “You’re amazing and I sure as shit aren’t letting you go.”

“I’m not amazing. I’m stupid and ugly and screwed up,” you said, wanting to squirm away but also knowing his body around yours was pretty much the only thing keeping you from having a full on meltdown.

“You are a smart, independent woman who is kind and sassy and strong. The only way I see this is ending is if I fuck it up and that hasn’t happened as far as I’m aware,” he said.

You leaned back against him, taking a few deep breaths.

“Why am I afraid of something good?” you asked, tilting your head up at him.

“Well it’s like you said, I could hurt you and you could hurt me. We’re putting a lot of trust in each other that we won’t do that,” he said.

“You wouldn’t,” you said. Dean stayed quiet, sitting with you for a few minutes until you started to get warm. “Can you give me a half hour to get ready and then we can go to your parents?”

“Are you sure? We can stay here,” he said, brushing his thumb over your cheek.

“My freakout has passed,” you said, nuzzling into his hand. “I promise, I’m okay.”

“If you change your mind, let me know and we can come home,” he said.

“I know. Thank you.”

 

**Monday**

Decorating with the Winchesters turned out to be a lot more fun than you were expecting. Mary even mentioned she hadn’t seen John and Dean get along that well in years when they were outside hanging lights. You were happy his relationship with his dad was starting to turn around. You knew it wasn’t a problem that was going to be fixed with one conversation but Dean was less stressed about spending all that time with his family.

“Hey, Y/N,” said Dean, calling you around lunch. You’d spent the morning wrapping presents and packing up a bag. You’d be staying over his parents tomorrow for Christmas Eve and possibly more than that so he’d told you to be prepared just in case.

“Hey, handsome boy,” you said, hearing a little laugh on the other end. “Well that sounds like the cutest little Winchester I’ve ever met.”

“Hi, Y/N!” said Jack, Dean shushing him.

“Hi, Jack,” you said, the phone volume changing as Dean got off speaker. “What’s up?”

“Well my Aunt Kelly said Jack has been super looking forward to seeing us both again and was wondering if we wouldn’t mind hanging out with him today while she helps my mom with some food prep? If you’re still wrapping-”

“I just finished actually,” you said. “I’d love to hang out with you two cuties.”

“You want to meet us at the park?” he asked.

“Sure. I’ll see you guys there.”

 

“Y/N!” said Jack, hopping off the swing and running over to you when you got there, practically jumping into your arms.

“Hey, Jack! Did you get bigger? It’s only been a month dude!” you said, picking him up and finding him way heavier than you thought he’d be. “Been eating your wheaties?”

“Huh?” he said, Dean rolling his eyes.

“Never mind,” you said, setting him down. “So, you been good for Santa?”

“Santa’s not real,” he said, pouting at you. You looked over to Dean who shook his head.

“Apparently one of the fifth graders decided to ruin it for the little kids last week,” said Dean. “Little prick.”

“Yeah but De says now that I know, I get to be part of the grown up club and I have to keep it a secret for the other kids,” said Jack.

“Well that’s very grown up of you,” you said, walking over to the swings, giving him a push once he climbed up. “Are you still excited for Christmas?”

“Uh huh. Tomorrow everybody will be here too,” said Jack, kicking his legs, swinging on his own. You moved behind Dean, watching him lean back with a smirk.

“Oh? Does somebody else want a push?” you asked.

“Yes please,” said Dean. You giggled as you tried to push him, Dean eventually kicking a little so you could get his weight moving. Soon he was swinging along next to Jack, Dean teasing him about the present he’d gotten for him.

“Y/N, are you De’s girlfriend?” asked Jack.

“Yes I am,” you said, leaning against the slide, Dean looking over Jack’s head with a smile. “Why do you ask, sweetie?”

“I think he really likes you,” said Jack in a loud whisper, Dean cracking up next to him.

“Oh yeah? What makes you say that?” you asked, Dean rolling his eyes behind Jack.

“Before you got here, he said you’re the prettiest girl in the whole world,” said Jack.

“Really. What else?” you said, biting down your smile.

“He said he like likes you,” said Jack. “I’m seven so I know what that means.”

“Oh. I bet you do. All of you Winchesters are super smart,” you said. Dean was shaking his head at Jack, the little boy oblivious to what his cousin was doing behind him. “So, Dean, do you like like me?”

“Maybe,” said Dean with a shrug. “Do you like like me?”

“Uh huh,” you said, Dean letting out a laugh.

“I told you she did, De,” said Jack.

“Oh, well. I’ll be sure to get all of my relationship advice from you from now on then,” said Dean, ruffling Jack’s head. “Your nose is getting pink. You want to warm up with some hot chocolate?”

“Yeah!” said Jack, hopping off the swings and heading for Dean’s car.

“Meet us at starbucks?” asked Dean, giving you a kiss as he stood up.

“I’ll be right behind you,” you said, patting his bottom, Dean blushing as you started to walk with Jack back towards the parking lot. You drove behind them to the store, ordering a coffee and pastry, Jack picking at half of it as he slurped on his drink.

“De, what are you getting for Christmas?” asked Jack, a splotch of whip cream on the tip of his nose he didn’t seem to notice.

“I’m not sure,” said Dean. “I don’t need a lot.”

“But don’t you want something?” asked Jack, licking the cream on the edge of the cup. Dean glanced at you, a tiny smile on his face.

“I got what I want,” said Dean.

“I want hot wheels,” he said.

“If you get some, can I play?” asked Dean, Jack nodding his head so fast you started to giggle. “You want to watch Christmas movies with me tonight?”

“Are you gonna sleepover?” asked Jack. Dean chuckled.

“Your mom and dad didn’t tell you yet, did they? You’re gonna sleepover Sammy and mine’s house tonight with all our cousins. No yucky grownups allowed,” said Dean. “Sound like fun?”

“Oh yeah!”

 

**Monday Night**

“Hey,” said Dean, giving Michael a nod when he stepped inside Sam’s house.

“Hey,” said Michael, Charlie, Cas and Arthur on his heels. “Nick’s got the other guys in his car.”

“Cool,” said Dean, his cousins filing into the house with some bags, walking upstairs and dumping them off in a few rooms. A few minutes later, Nick showed up with his sisters Ana and Jo, the girls bunking up with Charlie while Nick dropped his bag with the other guys stuff in the hall.

“Hey, Jack and Jo, you guys go put on your pajamas for me, would ya?” asked Michael, the two little ones racing each other upstairs. Charlie was the next youngest at 18, Ana the next at 22 but Michael only glanced back once behind him to make sure the kids were gone. “Listen up. All of us are Winchesters. Everybody here has shit and we’re not having what happened at thanksgiving happen again. It’s been years since all us cousins had our family night, no parents around. Mainly because we’ve been dickheads to each other and a lot of that has been directed at Dean. I was the biggest dick about it but Dean and I talked and that’s not happening anymore. Anybody going to be a shit about it, I’ll drive you over to Aunt Mary and Uncle John’s right now.”

No one said anything, Michael nodding his head.

“Good,” said Michael. “Now what do you got for booze around here?”

 

“Jo,” whispered Nick halfway through a movie, smiling when she kept on snoring on his leg. “I’m gonna put the rugrat to bed.”

“Yeah, it’s getting late for you too, Jackie,” said Dean, picking him up from his lap and handing him to Nick. “Sleep tight. Come get one of us if you need anything.”

“Can I have my bear?” he asked. You frowned, not remembering grabbing that when you picked up his night bag at Dean’s parents place.

“Nick, there’s a stuffed wolf in my room on the dresser. You can borrow him tonight, Jack,” said Dean, ruffling his head.

“Night,” said Jack, Nick carrying them both upstairs.

“Still sleeping with a stuffed animal?” teased Michael.

“Well my super hot girlfriend got it for me,” said Dean, cocking his head with a wicked smile. “Because I’m badass, like a wolf.”

“Honestly I thought it was cute,” you said, the room laughing as Dean groaned. “But he is a badass.”

“Well now that the little guys are up…” said Arthur.

“Christmas Vacation,” said Charlie and Ana in unison, one of them already reaching for the remote.

“I’m going to get a refill,” you said, standing up. You were halfway out of the room when you felt your hat get ripped off your head. You slapped your hand over your forehead, spinning around angrily, Dean already snatching it out of Cas’ hands.

“I was just-”

Dean thrust the hat back at you, huffing and puffing as you went to the kitchen. You fixed it back in place, returning with your drink and Dean practically foaming at the mouth.

“I don’t care if you were teasing. Touch her fucking hat again and I swear I-”

“Dean,” you said, a bit too forcefully. “Calm down. It’s not his fault. Just as an fyi to everyone, I was in a car accident a few months ago and it left some marks. One’s on my forehead hence the hat. I’m not wearing any coverup so just a good frame of mind is if you see me in a hat, please don’t take it off of my head.”

“Sorry,” said Cas. “I didn’t mean-”

“It’s alright,” you said, taking a seat next to Dean, leaning in close. “Say something to Cas.”

“Sorry for overreacting,” said Dean, glancing at Cas quick. “I’m just…defensive of Y/N.”

“It’s all good,” said Michael, giving everyone a nod. “Right, Cassie?”

“Yeah,” said Cas. “Sorry. Again.”

“S’okay,” you said with a smile. “Turn on the movie Ana.”

 

“So, you got a girlfriend,” said Michael a while later. You were on the couch, tucked up in Dean’s side, eyes closed with a blanket half on you. Most everyone had gone up to bed and you were simply staying put for the sake of not having to move.

“Yup,” said Dean, brushing his thumb over the back of your hand.

“You know she’s too good for you,” said Michael, Dean chuckling.

“Oh, I knew that from the start. I’m surprised this one gave me a shot,” said Dean.

“She’s like you, isn’t she,” he said.

“She’s not a model,” said Dean, Michael tsking him.

“No, I meant…she said you’ve only been dating a month which means you brought her to thanksgiving as a friend and then another holiday after only a month of dating…her family must be even screwier than ours if she wants to hang out with us nutjobs,” said Michael.

“She’s too good for them,” said Dean, stroking his hand over your head. “Damn idiots don’t know what they pushed away.”

“Because of her accident?” asked Michael.

“She’s had problems with them before that. I don’t know what but the accident and what happened after was the final straw. I don’t understand them. She was hurt and they wouldn’t be there for her,” said Dean.

“But you were,” said Michael. “It seems like she needed you a hell of a lot more than some absentee parents.”

“This is weird,” said Dean with a smile. “I haven’t talked to you about girls since I was in high school.”

“You were always a good looking guy, Dean. But you thought girls only liked you because of that I remember,” he said.

“What do you think of this one?” asked Dean.

“I think you could have the ugliest mug in the world and that girl would still look at you like the sun shines out your ass,” said Michael.

“Be serious,” said Dean.

“I am serious,” said Michael. “You two look at each other like you’re seeing something the rest of us can’t, like dorks in love or something.”

“We’re still figuring it out,” said Dean.

“I think you’re always going to be figuring it out, De,” said Michael.

“Says the single dude,” said Dean.

“I’m saying don’t make my mistakes,” said Michael.

“What mistakes? You’re 35, not dead,” said Dean. “You work too much. That’s the only reason you’re not dating.”

“I know. There’s actually a new girl at the office, different department, but she’s been flirting with me the past few months,” said Michael.

“Ask her out,” said Dean.

“I don’t want to make things weird,” said Michael.

“Are you her friend?” asked Dean.

“Office friends,” said Michael.

“Well try being real friends, see if there’s anything there before you jump into the asking out part of it,” said Dean. “Worked for me.”

“Yeah but you guys were friends way before you were dating,” said Michael.

“Nope, barely a week actually,” said Dean.

“Really? You invited Y/N to thanksgiving like…” said Michael.

“Listen, you can’t tell anyone else because I don’t want this to be awkward but you know the accident my parents got in a few months back…dad hit Y/N’s car,” said Dean.

“Seriously? Wait you said-”

“We weren’t exactly friends back then. We bumped into each other a few times after that and hung out a little and it’s complicated. Just…be her friend. Trust me, it’s a lot more fun when the girl is your best friend too,” said Dean.

“It probably is,” said Michael, pausing when you turned on the couch, popping open an eye. “We should probably get to sleep.”

“Somebody else is so sleeping in my bed, aren’t they,” said Dean with a chuckle.

“Uh, ten bucks say the girls claimed your room,” said Michael. “I think us old dudes are stuck on the couch.”

“Hey, tomorrow night-”

“Kids are so sleeping on the floor,” said Michael with a laugh. “Except for Y/N.”

“Hey, she’s Sammy’s age and a guest, she’s excluded,” said Dean.

“Shh,” you mumbled, wrapping an arm around Dean’s waist, shifting up to lay behind him on the couch.

“Okay, okay. Goodnight, honey.”


	14. Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader spends Christmas with the Winchesters…

**Christmas Eve**

“We’re here. Again,” called out Dean when you stepped inside his parents house after the third trip back to his place. “All presents and bags accounted for. If I lost anyone, I blame Michael.”

“How many cousins are there?” asked Michael, poking his head around a corner, eating one of the cookies you’d made over the weekend.

“Ten,” said Dean. “Two little ones.”

“Well we got the two little ones. Everyone else can fend for themselves,” said Michael, grabbing one of the bags you had. “Nice job on the cookies by the way. Uncle Bobby’s had like fifteen so far.”

“I have not ya idjit,” said Bobby, slapping Michael on the back of the head. “Go help your mom.”

“With what?” asked Michael.

“I don’t know. Get,” said Bobby, Michael holding up his hands as he left. “You two are supposed to set the table.”

“What are you doing?” asked Dean, cocking his head.

“Supervising,” said Bobby, taking a sip of beer and heading into the family room.

“I like him,” you said with a laugh.

“He grows on you,” said Dean. “Totally covered for me when I snuck out once.”

“Really?” you said.

“Yeah. I mean, I was totally forced to work at his salvage yard for an entire summer with no days off or breaks so he wouldn’t tell my parents but eh, I’m glad he did it,” said Dean.

“Oh sweetie,” said Mary, coming down the hall giving him a hug. “We always knew. We figured that would be a better punishment than grounding you.”

Dean rolled his eyes, Mary giving you a hug as well.

“You loved that summer and you did not work the whole time, mister. You and Charlie were thick as thieves,” she said.

“Charlie was five, stuck living with Uncle Bobby. Of course I took her to the park and swimming and crap,” said Dean, turning to you. “Charlie’s actually adopted.”

“She’s always looked at Sam and Dean as more of big brothers than cousins,” said Mary. “Dean always liked cars. We thought maybe he could learn a thing or two about them.”

“I learned a whole lot that summer,” said Dean. “I’d probably be a mechanic in another life.”

“Well you didn’t sneak out again after that, did you?” asked Mary.

“Not that you know of,” said Dean with a smile. She dropped her smile and crossed her arms. “I’m kidding…maybe.”

“Some things, I do not need to know, Dean,” she said. “After you two wash up, can you help set up the table? The big meal is tomorrow night so tonight’s a bit more laid back, Y/N. We’ll do stockings and everyone can open one gift.”

“Sounds fun,” you said, Dean pulling you along to the kitchen. It didn’t take long to put together the table, Dean having you pull on your coats and boots again once you finished. You followed him outside to the street, a few snowflakes floating on the air. He shoved one hand in his coat, brushing the other against yours, lacing your fingers together. “You okay?”

“Mhm,” he said, giving you a smile. “I wanted to go for a walk was all.”

“You have a big family,” you said.

“Yeah. It gets a bit hectic,” he said. “You hear from your parents at all?”

“Just a card yesterday. I didn’t open it,” you said.

“Maybe they’re trying,” said Dean.

“I’ll look at it later,” you said, walking around a small pile of snow.

“I have to talk to you about something. It’s pretty important,” he said.

“Okay,” you said, taking a deep breath. Dean stopped you on the street, turning to face you.

“I got you something,” he said, phising a small wrapped up bundle from his coat pocket. “I want you to open it.”

You let go of his hand as you peeled the green and red paper off, laughing as you opened it up.

“You like it?” he asked.

“I love it,” you said with a laugh. Dean ripped off the tag and took the trash from you as you pulled off your gray wool hat. You put the redish orange one on, complete with small pointed black ears. “It’s a fox hat.”

“You really do look like a cute little fox,” he said, bopping your nose with a smile.

“Thank you for the new hat,” you said, Dean pecking a kiss on your cheek. “It’s nice and warm. If not a bit ironic.”

“How so?” he asked.

“Uh, not to spoil or anything but you might be getting a similar present in the not too distant future,” you said.

“Is it a wolf?” asked Dean. You shrugged, Dean nodding his head when your lips started to curl up. “I knew it. Great minds think alike. Plus it just makes sense.”

“What does?” you asked.

“Well I’m bigger than you and a whole lot scruffier,” he said. “It just makes sense I’m a wolf.”

“And I’m a fox?” you said.

“Hey, you could have picked out any animal at the zoo,” he said, bumping into your shoulder. “I knew it was my super manliness that gave you the idea.”

“Oh, yeah, that was it,” you said rolling your eyes.

“What did?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Wolves are cool but you know, soft and loyal,” you said.

“Well I just thought you look cute like a fox,” said Dean. “Plush your hair looks all floofy in a ponytail.”

“Dork,” you said, bumping your hip against his.

“You’re the dork, dork,” he said, bumping you back, wrapping an arm around your waist when he nearly tripped. “Whoops. I guess I don’t know my own strength.”

“Shut up,” you said, wrapping your arm around his, Dean chuckling when you leaned your head against his shoulder.

“Y/N,” said Dean after a few minutes. He was walking slower, the snow sticking on the ground now as you continued around the neighborhood.

“Hm?” you hummed.

“I have a confession to make. I…I sort of want to get it off my chest,” he said. His tone was different this time, definitely not another little gift ahead.

“S’okay,” you said, Dean pausing. “I promise.”

“I posted another photo of you on instagram this morning. I didn’t ask your permission,” he said.

“Dean, that’s okay. When that happened before…you know how insecure I was about my appearance. I’m still insecure about it but you know I’m trusting you with it more and more,” you said. “I think you know by now what I am and am not comfortable with you showing of me.”

“I looked a little while ago…there were some comments on it,” he said.

“Were they mean?” you asked.

“I think you should take a look,” he said. You pulled out your phone, prepared for the worst.

You smacked him on the arm, Dean laughing when you saw it only had a few likes.

“You made your instagram private, didn’t you?” you said.

“Well, just for a while,” he said. “My actual friends can see that.”

“You know…” you said, looking at the black and white picture of you in bed, your messy hair covering your forehead perfectly, giving Dean a sly and sleepy smile. “You can post that. You don’t have to make your instagram private either for my sake.”

“You sure?” he asked.

“Positive,” you said. He fiddled around on his phone for a minute, tucking it back in his pocket. “Is that what was bothering you?”

“Mostly,” he said.

“What’s the other part?” you asked.

“Overthinking stuff in my head,” he said.

“Lay it on me, buddy,” you said. Dean pursed his lips. “Boyfriend-girlfriend confidentiality.”

“I’m not overwhelming you with my family, right?” he asked. “Like as soon as the holidays are over, you aren’t going to run for the hills?”

“No. Dean. I know I had an iffy morning on Saturday but I love your family. Yes, they are sort of insane but I really do like them. They could be assholes but I’d still suffer through them for you,” you said.

“I uh, I just worry,” he said.

“I noticed. I promise. Everything between us is great, Dean.”

 

**Christmas**

“You survived your first Winchester Christmas,” said Dean, back at his place late that night. “What’d you think?”

“Well I loved my stocking full of new hats and headbands,” you said, Dean chuckling as you crawled into bed with him. “I liked my new flannel and my handy dandy new tool box. Also, thank you for not getting the pink one.”

“Well I figured that wouldn’t be the smartest move. Now you got a good sturdy box to keep your stuff in. Maybe next year I’ll teach you how to change your own oil,” he said.

“Oh yeah. It’s every girls dream gift,” you teased. “You liked your car stuff?”

“I loved it. Plus you got me my awesome new wolf hat and that classic rock book. No one went too overboard,” he said.

“Good. I know we were both a little…nervous about that,” you said. He hummed and tucked himself in closer to you, letting out a soft sigh. “Early night?”

“Yes please,” he mumbled. You turned over in bed, just enough to get the light before Dean was rolling you back to him. “Night.”

“Night, Dean.”


	15. Bad Days & LA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader and Dean get back in their usual schedules but one of Dean’s posts leaves the reader questioning their relationship…

**Two Weeks Later**

Eventually you and Dean both had to return to work. Your lazy days at home watching movies, trying out new recipes with each other and curling up on the couch were over, at least until the weekends. Dean had to travel out of town to LA for one of his old clients for a few days, not that you minded the time alone to get some odds and ends done.

You’d finished work for the day and were bundling up to head to Dr. Bram’s when you got a notification on your phone. You tapped on it and immediately saw a picture of Dean with a gorgeous blonde. They were smiling with his arm around her shoulders, the caption saying something about missing his work bestie.

She had some kind of low cut crop top on, Dean in a tight leather jacket that looked amazing on him with a black shirt. You vaguely recognized her from a perfume commercial, her hair in big flowing waves as you caught them sat on the hood of a black convertible. Her tan skin was flawless, teeth perfectly white and the two of them looked like they were some young hot couple.

You glanced down, going to your weekly therapy session in a pair of baggy sweatpants, a cheap gray henley and a hat because you were cold and knew Dr. Bram wouldn’t care if you showed up like that.

Another post popped up, the woman kissing Dean on the cheek this time, Dean with a huge smile on his face.

You sat down on your bottom step, clicking on her profile and going through it. She looked great in a bikini, she had a nice house, she pulled off every outfit she had on there. She had freaking abs and was a fitness trainer on the side it looked like.

She was absolutely in Dean’s league and there was no way in hell you would ever be.

You were staring at one of her older posts with Dean when a call came in.

“Fuck,” you said, eyes flicking up to the top of your phone, cursing yourself. You answered and held it up. “Hello?”

“Y/N? This is Dr. Bram. You missed your appointment tonight and I didn’t get any messages about you cancelling,” he said.

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” you said, voice cracking at the end. “I let the time get away from me. I’m so sorry.”

“You’ve never missed an appointment before,” he said. You took a deep breath. He had a rule about that and if you didn’t respect it and call ahead, he could drop you as a patient if he wanted. “Y/N.”

“I’m sorry. I can still come next week, right?” you asked, rubbing your hand against your head.

“I’d like to still have our session tonight,” he said.

“But it’s after seven. You should go home to your family,” you said.

“Is it alright if I come to you?” he asked.

“Okay,” you said. He hung up shortly after and you heard a car out front about fifteen minutes later. Your coat and boots were back by the closet when you heard the doorbell ring. You swallowed hard, forcing a smile on your face when you answered. “Hi.”

“You look pretty upset right now,” he said, stepping inside. You shrugged, taking his coat and putting it with yours, Dr. Bram figuring out where his shoes went by the time you were spun around.

“Would you like something to drink?” you asked.

“Let’s go to your kitchen,” he said. You showed him down the hall, Dr. Bram humming as you poured him a glass of water and finding a box of tea, knowing he liked that better than coffee.

“I can make you something if-”

“Let’s find somewhere comfortable to talk, hm?” he said. You wandered into the family room, curling up in your spot on the couch, wrapping your blanket around yourself, wincing when you could still smell Dean’s shampoo on it. “Y/N, you scared me when you didn’t show up.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, gripping the blanket tighter.

“I know Dean’s out of town because we had to reschedule our session to Friday. Did something happen between the two of you?” he asked.

“No,” you said.

“What did happen then?” he asked.

“I’m being stupid,” you said.

“That’s not an answer,” he said.

“Dean’s out of town working with his super pretty model friend and that is the kind of person he should be with, not me,” you said. Dr. Bram lifted his chin, furrowing his brow. “What?”

“Don’t you think it’s up to Dean to decide the person he wants to be with?” he said.

“You’re not getting the point-”

“You’re not getting my point, Y/N. Dean has let you into a very private part of his life, one very few people are allowed in. I would say that makes you special to him. I can’t speak for Dean but I don’t see a real problem here. If you are feeling upset about something in your relationship, you need to talk to your partner about it, plain and simple,” he said.

“So it’s like I said, I’m being stupid,” you said.

“Y/N, you’re not stupid. You got upset which is a perfectly rational thing to do and I can tell that you’ve calmed down significantly since we started talking,” he said. “I think you should talk to Dean about what led you to feeling this way but I would not be afraid that there is something wrong with your relationship.”

“I wish I could have a normal relationship and not get nervous over stuff like a stupid photo,” you said.

“As a father to three girls, two still in high school, uncertainty at this stage in a relationship is quite common,” he said with a smile.

“But I’m never going to be better,” you said.

“Y/N. You’ve made incredible progress since I’ve known you. You hated me and we sat in dead silence those first sessions,” he said. “The fact you now have a boyfriend considering where we started is one example of how you’ve grown. It’s never been about getting to an end destination. We work together to figure out what helps you get through moments like tonight.”

“I do love ya Dr. Bram but you’re not going to be here the rest of my life,” you said.

“No, I won’t but other people will. Did you notice that this year I let you take more session breaks?” he asked. “You are getting better.”

“It doesn’t seem like it,” you said.

“Have you ever kissed Dean?” he asked.

“Yes,” you said.

“Well that’s something right there,” he said.

“Fine, I’m growing,” you groaned.

“Was there anything else that you wanted to talk about?” he asked.

“My parents sent me presents. I didn’t open them,” you said, nodding to the big box shoved under your kitchen table.

“Do you want to open them?” he asked.

“I want to send them back,” you said. “But I feel like it won’t make things better.”

“Will it make them worse?” he asked.

“No,” you said, Dr. Bram shrugging. “Thanks for coming over tonight.”

“Thank you for letting me in,” he said, standing up. “I quite like your house. It’s very much you.”

“It’s alright,” you said, showing him back to the front door.

“Y/N,” he said. “Stop staring at me.”

“I can still be a patient, right?” you asked.

“Yes. That rule is only meant for repeat offenders, not patients that are having bad days,” he said. “Eat some dinner, talk to Dean if you feel like this can’t wait until the morning and then go to bed.”

“I’ll try. Thanks,” you said.

“I’ll see you next Tuesday then,” he said. After you showed him out you made an easy dinner, trying to shove aside your insecurities. You didn’t want to be that kind of girl and you certainly didn’t want Dean to think you were.

You grabbed your phone with every intention of calling him but a text from him popped up first.

**_*Miss you*_ **

You hadn’t talked to him all day, a glance at the clock and you figured he’d just gotten out of work.

**_*Hey. How was work?*_ **

**_*Okay. Sucks when I can’t come over to see you though*_ **

You started to type out what had happened when you saw the pictures from before, Dean beating you to the punch.

**_*So unfortunately I’m going to be stuck here a few more days. My flight got double booked and I can’t fly back until Monday morning.*_ **

You deleted your message, gnawing on your bottom lip as you saw he was typing again.

**_*Sorry. I thought maybe if it was okay with you, maybe you’d want to come out here for a few days. You just need your work computer after all and I’d love to make you dinner in my apartment and everything.*_ **

**_*I got the airfare points to spend so it doesn’t cost anything either.*_ **

You called him, Dean answering before the first ring even finished.

“I had a bad day,” you said, pulling the phone away when it echoed. “Dean?”

“I don’t think either one of us had good days,” he said with a chuckle. “You want to go first?”

“I got jealous of the friend in your pictures earlier. I blew it out of proportion and then blew off my session and Dr. Bram came over and helped me stop freaking out,” you said.

“Are you feeling better now?” he asked.

“Yeah. I just…I saw how pretty your friend is and that’s the kind of girl that fits with you,” you said.

“Steffie is a pretty girl but you blow everyone and everything away, honey,” he said. “Seriously. You are beautiful and what I want.”

“I know, which is why I feel so stupid for stressing out over something like that,” you said.

“I don’t want you to feel stupid. You’re the smartest girl I know too,” he said.

“What’s going on with you, Dean?” you asked. Dean was quiet for a beat. “Honey?”

“I don’t know if I can do this anymore, this business. My new clients I have in Kansas and Missouri and Texas are awesome. Out here in LA…I’m a piece of meat again,” he said.

“You are not a piece of meat,” you said. “Anyone that treats you like that, send ‘em my way and I’ll kick their ass.”

“I forget how protective you are of me sometimes,” he said, chuckling for a moment. “I just really missed you today.”

“Do you want me to fly out there?” you asked.

“I’ll be okay. You got work and-”

“And I can bring my work with me wherever. You’re going to have to cancel your session for this week now and I want to come be with you,” you said.

“You’d fly all the way out here for me?” he asked.

“Of course, honey. I mean, selling me a trip to LA and out of the freezing cold Kansas winter isn’t that hard,” you said.

“When do you want to come out?” he asked.

“Tomorrow morning if I can. We can have a few days out there and then fly back on Monday,” you said. “Sound good?”

“Carla’s good at finding flights. I’ll give her a call and hopefully there’s something tomorrow,” said Dean. “You really don’t have-”

“I want to. I missed you too, Dean,” you said. “Let me know when my flight is.”

“Okay,” he said.

“See you soon, Dean.”

 

**Wednesday Afternoon**

“Y/N!” said Carla, giving you a hug at the airport pickup. “Oh, you have to be boiling in that winter coat.”

“Yeah, I didn’t exactly think about that when I got on the plane this morning,” you said, slipping out of it as she grabbed your bags and threw them in the back of her car. You sat down in the leather seats, getting a face full of air conditioner. You turned the vents down, Carla on the road by the time you were buckling in.

“Ever been to LA?” she asked.

“Yeah, a few times with my parents,” you said, staring out the window, already tugging on your long sleeve shirt. “Is it always this hot?”

“Hot? It’s freezing out!” she said. “It’s seventy five today.”

“We have very different definitions of hot,” you said with a laugh, Carla turning off the highway. “Where are we going?”

“Shopping before you have heat stroke. There’s a great store with long sleeve tops that are meant for sun resistance. It’ll keep you cool,” she said.

“I’ll be okay, really,” you said.

“Well okay but we’re going anyways. I need a new shirt and Dean’s still got a few hours of his shoot left. We’ll tag up with him towards the end of it,” she said. You really didn’t want to go shopping, you weren’t here for that but Carla was practically dragging you out of the car and into the store with her.

It was bright white in there as she headed for the back, grabbing a plain white long sleeve shirt off a rack and held it up to herself.

“Is this too mom? My daughter’s having a housewarming party and I don’t want to look like an old lady,” she said.

“I’d wear that shirt,” you said, feeling it. It wasn’t cotton for sure but you couldn’t quite tell what the material was.

“It helps stop sunburn. My shoulders are a mess. I had a mole removed last year. Never use a tanning bed. Ever. Not worth it,” she said, pointing a finger at you.

“Understood,” you said, wandering around the store. Most tops looked like they were meant for a day spent in the sun, Carla tossing something light blue over your shoulder.

“Try that on. The sizes are always iffy here,” she said, heading into the changing area. You rolled your eyes but followed after her. You hummed once it was on, the shirt not as tight as you thought it would be, the material light and fairly cool. “How’s it fit?”

“Good,” you said, turning around, three more shirts being tossed over the door. “Carla.”

“You’re here for five days. I can’t have you metling on me,” she said. You tried on a few more, settling on the light blue, a dark gray and a deep green that reminded you of Dean’s eyes. You were surprised with how cheap they were, Carla mentioning the importance of knowing when a sale was more than once. You dumped the bags in her trunk before she was off with you, pulling you down the street again.

“Carla, I brought clothes,” you said.

“Yes, I know but I saw the cutest little pair of shorts just down the block that would go perfect with that green shirt,” she said.

“Carla, I’m not wearing shorts,” you said, Carla pausing.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t know how…”

“My legs are okay. I have to be careful of sunburn is all,” you said.

“Well it is January, so the sun isn’t that strong,” she said. You cocked your head, Carla pouting.

“Fine. I’ll try them on,” you said. “You know, I really don’t like shopping.”

“Really? Never would have guessed,” she teased. You sighed, following her to the store she talked about before, grumbling when you actually liked the shorts. You bought them and Carla shoved the green shirt in your hands, sending you off to change in a restroom.

“Happy now?” you said, Carla smiling when you stepped out.

“Oh, you look so much more comfortable,” she said, glancing at your legs. You squeezed them together, Carla not saying anything about the just slightly off color from your face. “Alright, let’s head on over to the shoot. Dean should be wrapping up soon.”

About thirty minutes later you were walking with Carla onto an outdoor film lot, Carla mentioning something about the filming portion being done and just the photographs needing to finish up.

You tried to keep out of everyone’s way, Dean’s face lighting up when he saw you.

“Hey, I thought I said smolder,” said a guy behind a camera, Dean shooting him a dirty look.

“Can we take five minutes real quick?” asked Dean. “Please?”

“No,” he said, Dean narrowing his eyes. You looked to Carla, getting a head nod from her. No wonder Dean loved working with his new clients over this guy.

Ten minutes later Dean was walking over, wrapping his arms around you in a big hug and lifting you off the ground.

“Hi,” he said, spinning you around. “How was the flight?”

“Nothing special,” you said, Dean bending down to kiss you as he set you down. “Are you all done?”

“One last shot with Steffie. Probably another half hour,” said Dean, the blonde woman you’d gotten so worked up over yesterday giving you a small wave from the car she was leaned up against. “You want to meet her?”

“Sure,” you said, walking with Dean, Steffie standing up straight. “Hi.”

“Hi! I’m Steffie. So you’re the girl Dean won’t shut up about,” she said, smacking Dean on the arm. “It’s pretty adorable to be honest.”

“Steffie, shut up,” said Dean.

“He’s so into you,” she said with a laugh. “I like your shirt. I can’t pull off long sleeves. I got short and stubby arms.”

“No you don’t,” you said.

“According to what’s his face over there I do,” she said, her arms over her chest. “To be honest, I don’t even like this perfume. Give me the stuff at bath and body works over this crap.”

“So you don’t like modeling?” you asked.

“I do but I’m more trying to make my money and then get out. I want to run a bed and breakfast with my boyfriend. Dean keeps saying he’ll be our first and probably only customer once we get it up and running. Only a little while and we should be in business,” she said.

“I’m sure I can convince someone else to come along with me,” said Dean, giving you a smirk.

“Keep it in your pants, Winchester,” said Steffie. “I do not want to do the rest of this shoot knowing you’ve got a hard on for your girlfriend.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna go wait over there,” you said, giving her a smile, turning around.

“Shut up, we haven’t gotten there yet,” said Dean, Steffie sighing.

“Sorry. You’re just goo goo ga ga over her. I assumed,” she said as you walked away. You didn’t catch the rest of their conversation, the shoot starting back up and the photographer putting Dean and Steffie into some…intimate positions.

“You smell,” said Steffie, Dean rolling his eyes. “You need a shower.”

“I’ve been wearing a leather jacket all day. I’m hot and sweaty,” he said, sliding his hand up on her waist.

“Hey,” said the photographer. “Move your hand back.”

“Uh, no,” said Dean.

“I said put it back,” he said.

“And I said no. You didn’t even ask her if it was okay for someone to touch her ass let alone ask me before you started putting us in that position,” said Dean, leaving his hand on her waist.

“Move it back,” said the photographer.

“Dean, it’s fine,” said Steffie.

“No, it’s not,” said Dean, glaring at the photographer. “Now take your damn pictures.”

The photographer didn’t speak to Dean again, snapping off a few photos before he waved his hands, people moving around like they were done for the day.

“Dean,” said Steffie, catching his arm as he started to walk back towards you. “They’re not gonna hire you back unless you go talk to the photographer.”

“I couldn’t care less about working for this client again,” said Dean, giving her a hard look. “I know you were uncomfortable with that.”

“Thanks,” she said with a shrug, dropping her hand away. “Do you want me to say something?”

“No. They fire me, they fire me,” said Dean.

“Thanks,” she said, giving him a nod as she went to change. Dean rolled his eyes as he walked over to you, resting his head on your shoulder.

“Let’s get out of here, sweetheart.”

 

“So,” you said after you got your bags into Dean’s car and he was driving back to his place. “Does that sort of thing happen a lot?”

“Yup,” said Dean, tapping his finger on the steering wheel at a red light. “But let’s not talk about work. How was your day?”

“Good. I got some work stuff done while I was waiting at the airport. Carla took me shopping,” you said.

“Her daughter just moved to San Francisco so unfortunately she’s looking for a new shopping buddy,” said Dean, turning down a street and another, going down into a parking garage under a building. “Home sweet home.”

“You live here?” you asked. Dean hummed, sliding out of the car and grabbing your bags. You walked to an elevator, stepping inside and Dean punching in a code. It stirred to life, stopping up the fifth floor, Dean turning right down the hall. You rounded a corner with him, walking almost all the way to the end before he stopped outside 523.

“Sorry if it’s a dump. I haven’t cleaned much,” he said, unlocking it and swinging it open for you. You sort of hated it to be honest. It was super modern and you saw Dean chuckle at your face. “Yeah, I hate it too. It’s not homey at all.”

“Well it’s…different than Kansas,” you said. Dean put a hand on the small of your back, leading you past the foyer and to the kitchen, showing you around before he was setting your bags in the bedroom.

“I sort of reek like sweat so I’m gonna take a quick shower and then I’ll make us dinner,” he said.

“Okay,” you said. “I’ll probably slip into a t shirt unless you think we’ll be going out again.”

“No, a quiet night in with you sounds like the best thing on earth right now,” he said. “Make yourself at home.”

Dean hopped into his bathroom, giving you plenty of time to slip into a t shirt and a pair of loose shorts. You wiped your makeup off your face, using the mirror in Dean’s bedroom to make sure you’d gotten it all. The water turned off and not five seconds later, a dripping wet Dean with only a towel slung low around his hips padded in.

“You got the right idea,” he said, pecking your cheek as he walked past, leaving water droplets behind. You watched him pull out a pair of boxers and loose shorts from his dresser, a white t shirt from nearby going into the pile. You looked away when you felt yourself staring, hoping he hadn’t noticed.

But then he paused on his way back to the bathroom, turning around with a smirk.

“You wore shorts today,” he said, glancing down at your bare legs. “I’ve never seen you without pants or those pantyhose on.”

You looked down, Dean chuckling to himself.

“You look amazing, Y/N,” he said. “Two minutes and then I’ll make you something delicious.”

You went out to his kitchen, taking a seat on a barstool, Dean happily walking out after a moment and going straight to the fridge.

“Okay. I was thinking spicy chicken alfredo pasta. I know, it sounds questionable but it’s really fantastic,” he said, pulling out a package.

“No it’s great,” you said, staring at Dean’s back. It turns out, he’d grabbed a loose fitting tank top to throw on. You never really looked at Dean, not like that, not for more than a few seconds at a time at least.

Dean started to laugh, glancing back over his shoulder.

“See something you like?” he teased. Your face dropped, Dean’s following after. “Sorry.”

“No. You don’t have to apologize,” you said, fidgeting in your seat.

“Sweetheart,” said Dean, leaning over the counter, giving you a big smile. “It’s okay if you check me out. I do it to you. It makes me feel handsome.”

You felt your cheeks start to burn but didn’t look away.

“I’m not ready for…” you said, Dean leaning in and kissing you.

“You can look at me, Y/N and we don’t have to have sex. We won’t get to that part of this until we’re both absolutely ready for it,” he said. “Please, openly look at me like you want me. I won’t do a thing more than look back until you tell me to, okay?”

“Yeah,” you said, giving him a smile, pausing when he went back to dinner. “Well…there is something I’ve been thinking about a little bit.”


	16. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader and Dean make a few confessions to one another…

“You’re a good kisser,” you said, Dean licking his lips when he sat back on the couch, turning his head to yours.

“You’re a good maker outer,” he said. You whacked his shoulder, Dean letting out a laugh. “What? You are.”

“I’m glad I’ve lived up to your expectations,” you said, Dean throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Thank you for dinner. It tasted great.”

“I like cooking for you. I love Sammy but I should really think about getting my own place back home,” said Dean.

“What’s the rush? Sam loves having you there,” you said. Dean cocked his head but you nodded. “He told me so.”

“When?” he asked.

“Last week. Sam’s my friend too,” you said. “We talk about you and other stuff.”

“What’s he say?” asked Dean.

“That you’re the best big brother in the world,” you said, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Uh huh,” said Dean, giving you a noogie.

“I swear! He wuvs you,” you said with a laugh, Dean sliding his hands down to tickle your sides. You started to squirm, Dean laughing with you as you slid down in your seat. “Stop.”

Dean’s hands were off you in an instant, turning away as you sat up and tugged your shirt down where it’d started to ride up.

“Everything okay?” he asked, turning back when you wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him to lay back against you.

“Yeah. We wouldn’t want you to see anything yet,” you said, wincing when the flirt fell out of your voice. Dean didn’t say anything though, closing his eyes when you began stroking his hair, playing with the short strands.

“That feels nice,” he hummed, leaning more of his weight against you. You started to move your hands around, tracing over his arms, running your finger along one of his ribs, winding it around his side.

“I have a scar here,” you said, Dean watching your fingers dance around his torso, drawing them out over his shirt, Dean’s breath catching when you slid one up close to his throat. “They’re everywhere, Dean.”

“Y/N,” said Dean. He sat up and turned around, grabbing your hands as he faced you. He bit his bottom lip, looking at you. He didn’t speak, only looked for a minute or two with you looking back, his face almost sad. “Sweetheart.”

He let go of one of your hands to wipe his thumb over your forehead, moving it down to trace along the scar on your arm.

“I love you,” he said, giving you a smile. “I just do, honey. Maybe it’s a little early to say that and I’m running the risk of scaring you away but I love you, Y/N. I love you as a person and I love this body, even if you don’t. I don’t care if you are covered in scars. I honestly don’t. Maybe you catch me staring sometimes but it’s only because I just go back to that night and remember seeing you in that hospital bed. You were so hurt and I don’t want to see you hurt ever again, sweetheart. If I could…if I could let you see yourself the way I see you for just five minutes, I’d do it in a heartbeat. I know we both have problems, problems that maybe we haven’t talked all the way out or shared but our problems aren’t who we are, right? Just like your scars and how you look isn’t who you really are when it comes down to it. I mean, I think you’re beautiful and I know the rest of you is too. Stop trying to convince me otherwise because, sweetheart, you’re never going to get me to change my mind on that.”

You blinked slowly, Dean cupping your cheek, still smiling like a damn idiot at you.

“Y/N,” he said softly, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Can you say something because I’m freaking out that I just ruined this.”

“I don’t…” you said. Dean nodded his head, moving his hands back to his own lap. You shot out and grabbed them, Dean meeting your gaze. “I don’t know how to really do this so give me a second.”

“You’re not breaking up with me, are you?” asked Dean, swallowing hard.

“No,” you said with a smile, staring at his lap, hands relaxed with yours around them. “No, you are…amazing and so kind and sweet. But I get a little scared sometimes too. It’s like I’m waiting for something bad to happen…I have been screwed up and felt so wrong for as long as I can remember. Everyone wanted me for something, since I was a little kid and…you’ve never asked for anything from me. You bought me a teddy bear in the hospital and came to visit me when no one else did. Maybe that’s my own fault but you have always been nice to me. You invited me over for a home cooked meal and you gave me your coffee and tried to show me that even models get insecure and you got me a free tire and headband and you stopped to check that the girl crying in her car was okay. You always are taking care of me and I didn’t deserve any of that. It took me a while to figure out that the reason you did those things, and the reason you help other people is because you’re good. You don’t want anything. You’re so strange and you don’t fit in that neat little stereotype that I tried to put you in when we met. You’re a good person, Dean and…I’m done being scared of you. I just want to get to the part where we’re both done with being afraid because you’re my best friend and every day I keep falling harder for you and I couldn’t care less if I don’t ever stop.”

“Okay,” he said, turning your hands over, blinking at you.

“Okay,” you said, Dean taking a deep breath.

“Okay,” he said, leaning forward, smashing his lips to yours. Your breath caught in your throat. It was as smooth and sweet as ever but he wasn’t holding back anymore, one arm around your waist, the other crawling it’s way into your hair as he slid you onto his lap. You panted when he broke apart, staring up at you.

“I’m ready,” you said, giving him a nod.

“Y/N,” he said, a warning in his green eyes, growing darker by the second.

“I’m ready,” you said. Dean hiked your legs around his waist, smirking as he picked you up and carried you back to his bedroom. His mouth was warm when it pressed against your own, taking his time now. He set you back on the bed, leaning over you. He rested a hand on your hip, slowly pushing your shirt up.

You closed your eyes, Dean’s lips leaving you. You were about to open them when he quickly pulled you up to sit, arms and legs wrapping around you. You didn’t realize he was talking until you heard him shushing you, running a hand over your hair.

“It’s too fast. It’s okay. It’s okay, sweetheart,” he whispered, shushing you as he kissed your forehead, tucking your head under his chin when he moved back and tightened his grip on you. You didn’t understand until you caught your reflection in the mirror.

You looked terrified.

“Dean,” you said, Dean shaking his head. “De.”

“No. We are not having sex and that’s final,” he said. You buried your head in his chest, taking a few deep breaths, quietly relaxing as he used his body to swaddle you. After a while you wanted to stretch out though, your head nudging Dean’s giving him the message. You pulled away but gave him a smile. “Go take a quick shower for me.”

You knew what he was up to, one of Dr. Bram’s quick tips for helping calm down, a refreshing shower ordinarily helping you to feel better. After only a few minutes though, just enough time for your skin to get warm, you got out, going to Dean’s room. One of his shirts was on the bed and you pulled it on, sliding your pajama shorts on and heading out to see a few tufts of his hair sticking out from over the back of the couch.

“I’m sorry,” you said as you walked around, slipping into the spot in the corner between the cushions and Dean.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he said, pulling a blanket off the back of the couch and over you.

“You figured it out, didn’t you,” you said.

“I had my suspicions after how tense you used to be in bed. We both know Dr. Bram specializes in trauma patients. Tonight kind of confirmed what I was thinking,” he said, running his hand up and down your arm. “Please tell me I’m wrong.”

“I was a senior, about four years ago,” you said, Dean closing his eyes. “My boyfriend at the time took me to a party. He wanted me to loosen up so he put something in my drink without telling me and…I woke up in the middle of it.”

“Y/N,” said Dean, giving you a big hug.

“You think that was the worst part? Granted, it was awful but he started talking to me too, told me horrible things about the way I looked, how that was the only way anyone would ever want to sleep with me. The asshole screwed me up pretty good that night,” you said.

“Where is he now,” said Dean dryly. You glanced at him, Dean’s brow furrowed, jaw clenched.

“Away,” you said. “I’m not scared of him anymore, Dean. I made that very clear to him a long time ago. But I couldn’t stop being scared of the other crap. Of having a boyfriend again. Of a relationship, being intimate, that I am not as every bit as hideous as he drilled into my head. But recently I decided to screw being scared. Fuck that asshole because I am moving on and you have been a huge part of that, whether you knew it or not. But I don’t think I can do this next part on my own. I think we need to go slow because Dean, I do want to have that kind of relationship but I need a little help and I need you to be patient with me.”

“We will go as slow as you need and there is no rush at all,” he said, shaking his head, twitching his lip up.

“Dean?” you asked, Dean narrowing his eyes as he stared off.

“I will never, ever-”

“I know. I know you wouldn’t, Dean,” you said.

“If anyone ever bothers you again, I’ll take care of it,” he said.

“You’re genuinely pissed about this,” you said.

“Enraged is more the word I would use,” he said, turning to you. “You never deserved any of that. Ever. Not for one second. You-”

“Dean,” you said, pressing a finger to his lips, Dean’s face softening. “I know all that. I am much better than I used to be, believe me. Just be a little patient with me please.”

“Of course,” said Dean, kissing your cheek. “If this is all you’re ever comfortable with, then that’s good enough for me too.”

 

You slept easier that night, knowing you didn’t have to be so concerned with Dean. Sure, he wanted to go to that next step and you wanted to go with him but he’d wait for you however long you asked and that was exactly why you knew he’d be the one to help you through that.

The sound of Dean’s alarm blaring woke you up, the both of you groaning at the loud noise. He shook his head and turned it off, grunting when he rolled back over and threw his arms around you.

“I think we both need to get up,” you said, Dean shaking his head again. “I can be late to work. You can’t.”

“Five more minutes,” he grumbled. You shifted away an inch or so in an attempt to get him out of bed but Dean simply threw his legs over yours, letting his body weight keep you in place. “No. Mine.”

“You have to get up. I’ll cook you waffles if you do,” you said. “With blueberries.”

“Nah,” he said, jamming his face in the back of your neck.

“Dean. Winchester,” you said, Dean giggling into your skin. “Are you misbehaving this morning?”

“For sure,” he said. “You should try it.”

“You need to get up,” you said.

“I don’t wanna go. I want to stay in bed with you,” he said with a pout, nuzzling his cheek against you, lightly scratching you with his scruff.

“I’ll make you a pie today,” you said. Dean let go of you, jumping out of bed and heading straight for the shower. “I think I’ll remember that little trick.”

“Banana cream!” he said as he hopped into the bathroom. “Please!”

You laughed as he pulled the door shut and you climbed out from under the sheets. You weren’t able to find any waffles but he had a jug of instant pancake mix in a cupboard. You whistled as you grabbed a pan and started to make some, the first one burning but after that you got in a rhythm of pouring and flipping.

“Mmm,” said Dean, coming out of nowhere and wrapping his arms around you from behind, taking a deep breath. “Smells yummy.”

“You don’t have any blueberries unfortunately. Or chocolate chips,” you said.

“I haven’t been shopping in a while,” he said, turning his head over his shoulder while you dished up the last of the batter. “My lease here runs out the end of March.”

“Are you moving back?” you asked, Dean chuckling.

“No. I was thinking in the shower I should pack up my crap and ship it back to Kansas,” he said. “I can travel for work whenever but that’s where my family is.”

“Wouldn’t living here be better for your career though?” you asked. “I mean, you were going to do Calvin Klein, right?”

“They also fired me when I showed their test pictures of me to everyone,” he said with a shrug.

“Wait, they’re the ones that super photoshopped that picture of you?” you asked.

“There were conditions on the contract about needing to get in better shape and-”

“Better shape?” you said, turning around, Dean in a pair of loose sweatpants and nothing more. It was the first time you’d seen him without a shirt on purposefully, normally Dean changing into his pajamas or coming out of the shower the only glimpses you got of him.

You looked him up and down and shook you head, rolling your eyes.

“You’re perfect and hot,” you said, giving him a smile as he hopped up on the counter and rolled up a pancake. “Like, you’re in shape and strong and your arms are all muscle and you’re healthy. Who the fuck said you need to get in shape?”

“Calvin Klein,” he said.

“Well they can go fuck themselves,” you said, placing a few pancakes on a plate, digging out a mostly empty bottle of syrup from his fridge. Dean grabbed another pancake and began eating it, chewing slowly as you doused your breakfast.

“You’re attracted to me,” he said, taking another slow bite.

“Uh, yes,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “Isn’t it kind of obvious?”

“Sure,” he said, giving you a smile as he hopped off the counter and moved to fix himself a plate.

“Dean,” you said, grabbing his arm when started to move around the kitchen island. “You know I’m attracted to you, don’t you?”

“Yeah, duh,” he said, scoffing as he climbed onto one of his barstools. You stared at him as he ate, his green eyes darting over to look at you, quickly back to staring at his plate. You took a seat next to him and put a finger under his jaw, turning his head to face you. He looked away for a moment, turning back with a hard swallow.

“Oh, Dean,” you said, Dean sliding your hand back to your lap. “Dean, I-”

“I know. You were scared I would take that as you wanting sex or something so you didn’t say it,” he said with a nod, giving you a smile. “Seriously, it’s okay.”

“No it’s not,” you said, grabbing his hand. “Every single day, every  _day_ , you tell me how beautiful I am. I’ve never even told you a damn thing about what I like about you.”

“Well, personally I’d rather you like me for me and not my looks,” he said, kissing you. “It’s okay, honey. I promise. I got to run, I stayed in bed too long this morning and LA traffic is a nightmare.”

He slid off his seat and grabbed a zip up hoodie, pulling it on as he grabbed a backpack by the door.

“Dean-”

“It’s okay, Y/N,” he said, stepping back over to give you a kiss. “I know you think I’m beautiful too.”

You didn’t want to think about how guilty you felt at realizing you never complimented Dean on his looks considering he had his own image problems. But a silly smile crept onto his face, Dean laughing to himself as he slipped on a pair of sneakers.

“Love you,” he said.

“I love you too,” you said, Dean pausing at the door, looking back over his shoulder. “Are you blushing?”

“Shut up,” he said, biting his bottom lip. “You love me.”

“Oh, go to work you dork,” you said.

“Don’t forget my pie!”


	17. A Handsome Man & A Visit to Dr. Bram

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader has a surprise for Dean and they attend a session with Dr. Bram together…

**Thursday Night**

“You have no idea how glad I am to be home…” said Dean, trailing off when he stepped out of his main hall and into his kitchen. He cocked his head, looking at the kitchen table, blinking once before turning his head to you standing nearby.

“Hi,” you said, holding out a bundle of flowers for him, Dean shaking his head at you.

“You got me flowers,” he said, chuckling as he looked them over. “I’ve never gotten flowers before you know.”

“Well, I figured it was about time you did,” you said, walking over to the set kitchen table with an empty vase, a pair of lit candles on top, the lights dimmed low.

“You cooked dinner,” he said, spinning your around. You waited for him to say something about the obvious but it never came. You picked out a new dress with a little help from Carla but it wasn’t something you were ready to wear out in public yet.

Dean lowered his head to your exposed collar bone and kissed along the long scar slowly, a pleasant shiver running up your spine. He peppered a few kitten kisses up your neck, chuckling against your skin when you arched your neck for him.

“I’ll have to remember that,” he said, voice deeper than normal, kissing your cheek. “I think I need to change for our date. Be right back.”

You went to the oven and pulled out the steak, hoping it came out the way Dean liked. You dished up a side of pasta and some veggies, turning your head when you heard Dean return.

“Fuck,” you said, Dean in one of those tailored suits he modeled for, a sleek black with a white pocket square, no tie, the top button undone. He flashed you a wink and stepped over, inspecting the food.

“You are a fantastic cook, sweetheart,” he said, helping you bring the food over. He poured out a few drinks and pulled out your chair for you, a gorgeous smile being given back to you as you sat. He sat across from you and set his napkin in his lap, eyes flickering up to meet yours. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

“I did it because I wanted to,” you said, Dean’s gaze flickering down to your scar on your chest.

“You have no idea how proud I am of you. Or that I’m the one that gets to see all of you,” he said with a soft and silly smile.

“You must be special,” you said, Dean glancing at his lap. “You are incredibly handsome, Dean and I’m going to try to be better about reminding you of that.”

“Y/N-“

“No, let me…you focus on me. A lot. I take advantage of that. I forget sometimes that you and me…we’re a lot a like. We both have problems with how we see ourselves. But you’re so handsome and you’re so amazing to me that I forget that you have those same problems I do. It’s a pretty selfish thing to do honestly, to think that because I see you a certain way, you must think that way too. Yesterday you said you wished I could spend five minutes seeing myself from your perspective. Honey, I wish I could give you the same thing because I didn’t really get that until I sat and thought about it today. I know how I feel about you and how I see you. I was holding back, right up until last night. I was using it as a way to protect myself because the way I feel terrifies me and it’s the greatest thing on earth all at once. I didn’t want you to hurt me.

“But I’ve been so stupid because you aren’t going to hurt me. You protect me. No one’s ever protected me. But you do and all I’m trying to say is that I’m here to do the same thing for you. Sometimes I’m mean to myself, and sometimes you’re mean to yourself and we’re both going to screw up every once in a while. But for some reason we fit together and I want to get better at making sure you know I’m there for you just as much as you’re there for me,” you said.

“Thanks,” he said quietly. “I know you’re there for me sweetheart but maybe it’s like you said, we’ll try to stop being so scared of each other.”

“Good,” you said with a nod.

“Thank you for dinner,” he said, leaning over the table to give you a kiss. “Let’s dig in.”

 

**Two Months Later**

“Dean, Y/N,” said Dr. Bram as you walked into his office. “I was wondering when you two would want to try a joint session.”

“Well it’s Dean’s time. I’m just here for…reasons,” you said. Dr. Bram raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. You took your normal seat on the couch, Dean sliding in close to you.

“Alright. How have things been Dean?” asked Dr. Bram, taking a seat. Dean leaned forward and grabbed one of the caramel sweets from the small bowl on the table, something you’d stared at a million times but never actually had.

“Good,” said Dean, untwisting the wrapper and popping the candy in his mouth. He started to fold the wrapper over, Dr. Bram giving him a smile. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay to be nervous. We haven’t had a non-family member join us before,” he said. “So what’s on your mind?”

“I got a job offer. To do some shoots over in Europe for two weeks,” said Dean.

“That sounds exciting,” he said.

“It is but that’s a really long flight,” he said.

“Oh,” said Dr. Bram. “So your fear of flying is back.”

“I wouldn’t say it ever left really,” said Dean. “The last few times I flew it was because I was worried about my parents and didn’t really pay attention or I took a sleeping pill and slept the whole time. But the very last time I flew, it was with Y/N and it actually wasn’t that bad. She’s offered to go with me since she can work from anywhere so I don’t have to fly that far by myself.”

“Okay,” said Dr. Bram. “But…”

“My flights are covered by the customer and I can’t use my miles on an international flight so she’d have to pay which has been a bit of an argument for the past few days,” said Dean.

“Bit of an argument,” he said.

“We got in a slight shouting match last night,” you said. “It’s our first really big fight.”

“You seem more sure of yourself though,” said Dr. Bram.

“We had a fight. We aren’t going to break up over it which is why I’m not worried. Do I want him to also not worry? Yes. I want him to see it my way too but I want him to stop stressing out over this,” you said.

“I’m missing part of the puzzle, aren’t I?” asked Dr. Bram when Dean cocked his head at you.

“She’s been saving up her money for the surgery her insurance wouldn’t cover but she wants to use that for the plane tickets. Do you see why I’m mad about that?” asked Dean.

“No, not really,” said Dr. Bram. Dean threw up his hands and scoffed, Dr. Bram raising an eyebrow at him. “Dean…I will ask you a question if you’re willing to be an adult about it. Okay?”

“Fine,” grit out Dean, crossing his arms.

“You and Y/N, while a couple and partners…well to put it simply, you are not married and you don’t live together or depend on each other financially. Why does it bother you so much what she chooses to spend her savings on?” he asked.

“Because the surgery is something she wants and I can handle a few bad flights. It’s going to take her time to save that up again and that’s just more time she has to wait,” said Dean.

“Mhm. You seem to be speaking a lot for Y/N,” he said.

“Isn’t everything I just said true?” asked Dean, looking at you.

“Yes,” you said, looking to Dr. Bram.

“Then I don’t understand what the problem is,” said Dean.

“Dean, a bit of relationship advice and as a man that has been married for a very long time, just because something is true doesn’t mean it’s right,” said Dr. Bram.

“I have no idea what you just said,” said Dean.

“Did you ask Y/N about this? About why she was making the choice she was?” he asked.

“I know why-“

“You assumed that I find my scars such a big problem that I would prioritize that, something that won’t happen for months and months, over something that would help you right now. You are losing sleep over these flights and I want to go with you. I think it’d be fun to go to Europe with you. I think that I’m comfortable enough in my own skin that I’m okay with walking around in tee shirts again in front of other people and that I like wearing hats and headbands. I think you assumed and you weren’t willing to listen to me and that’s why I’m here right now,” you said.

“But it’s something you want,” he said. “And you won’t let me pay for a ticket for you when I can definitely afford it.”

“Y/N, did Dean offer to do that?” asked Dr. Bram.

“Yes but-“

“Okay, two minute time out you two. No talking,” he said, holding up a hand. You pouted at him, crossing your arms as Dean slumped back into the couch. He twiddled his fingers on his chest, giving you a glance.

He went to speak but Dr. Bram grunted. Dean stared at you, blinking a few times before he tilted his head.

“Okay, now that I think I’ve got all of the information on the situation now, this is the part where I say being in a relationship means you do not always get what you want. I know you both well enough to know that someone’s caring nature and someone’s pride both were too aggressive for their own good,” said Dr. Bram.

“Who was who? asked Dean. He just chuckled and leaned forward in his seat.

“See, that is why you work together so well. You are very similar and so very different,” he said.

“You haven’t solved our problem at all,” said Dean.

“You know I have but you don’t like the solution,” said Dr. Bram.

“Dean?” you said.

“It’s your choice,” said Dean. “But you’re being stubborn too because you won’t let me help pay.”

“I don’t want to owe you is all,” you said.

“Owe me what? A thousand dollars? You aren’t going to pay me back,” he said.

“Exactly which is why I want to pay myself,” you said.

“Why can’t I pay for a trip for my girlfriend? What’s so bad about that?” he asked.

“There’s nothing wrong with it. I just don’t want to be a freeloader,” you said.

“You are not a freeloader,” he said.

“It’s a lot of money,” you said.

“I don’t care about the stupid money,” he said, turning his body to face yours. “I want you to come with me. Why can’t I do this for you? Why? Just tell me so I can understand.”

“Because you have money and I know how you talk about old girlfriends and how that’s part of why they stuck around and I don’t want you to ever think that I am here for that. So if I pay, I don’t have to worry that you’re worried,” you said.

“Y/N,” said Dean, putting his hand on his head, laughing quietly to himself. “You never in a million years have to worry about me thinking you are that kind of person. I love you, ya big idiot. I want to pay so we can both have what we want, that’s it. There’s no strings attached. Shit, you offered to come to therapy with me because you were so worried about me. I know why you’re with me and it has nothing to do with my job or my looks. Please, don’t think that I’m keeping track of that crap or something.”

“Well…I guess we were both silly,” you said with a shrug, Dean resting his hand on yours and giving it a squeeze. “Talk next time though. Don’t try to assume things.”

“We’ll both be better about talking, alright?” he said. You nodded, Dr. Bram giving you each a smile. “So we going to Europe?”

“I think so,” you said.

“Well it sounds like you resolved that problem,” said Dr. Bram. “Although I still want to talk about this flight. Y/N will be there to help but it will be the longest one you’ve ever been on.”

“I can handle it,” said Dean.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea that you take a sleeping pill again,” he said.

“Well the flight is about 12 hours with the connection,” said Dean, swallowing hard.

“The longest flight you’ve ever been on was about three hours,” said Dr. Bram.

“If Y/N’s with me, I know I’ll be okay to go that long,” said Dean.

“Why’s that?” asked Dr. Bram. Dean glanced at you and then his lap, lifting his head up with a shy smile.

“I know she’s smaller than me but…she makes me feel safe,” said Dean. “Protected.”

“Do you like that?” asked Dr. Bram, giving you a smile.

“Yeah. I mean, even though she couldn’t stop a plane from crashing or anything like that, I feel better with her there,” he said.

“How does that make you feel, Y/N?” asked Dr. Bram.

“I don’t know,” you said with a shrug, your face feeling hot as Dean gave you a smile. “Nice.”

“Do you blush a lot around Dean?” asked. Dr. Bram.

“Oh yeah,” said Dean with a big head nod.

“No I don’t, dork,” you said, whacking his arm, Dean chuckling. “He blushes way more.”

“I can’t help it if you’re cute,” said Dean. “That’s your fault.”

You rolled your eyes and bit down your smile, Dr. Bram standing up from his seat. He walked around behind his desk and went to his bottom drawer, pulling out a gray box.

“Oh, I know what this is,” you said, Dr. Bram handing the box to Dean. “He wants you to write something down.”

“Who’s the therapist here, huh?” said Dr. Bram, cocking his head at you. “And this is for Dean to keep.”

“Why’s your name on this?” asked Dean, showing you the bottom of the box. Your eyes flickered up to Dr. Bram, shaking your head.

“Dean. Now, this is Y/N’s box. Do you remember the box rules?” asked Dr. Bram.

“Yeah,” said Dean, giving it a smile. “I remember the one Sammy did.”

“Y/N,” said Dr. Bram, pulling another box from behind his back, this one a light blue. “You’ve never gotten a box before so I’ll explain this to you. Do you remember what kind of thing I asked you to write down on your card?”

“A hope,” you said, Dr. Bram handing you the light blue box, years and years old from the looks of it.

“Correct,” he said as you flipped the box over, Dean’s faded name written on the bottom. “Now when I ask someone to write something for one of these boxes, it means I think that person is making progress. I never read them but I keep them safe for you. Now when I think that person no longer requires my services, I give their box back to them or to someone I know they are very close with.”

“I can’t-” you said, Dr. Bram shaking his head.

“You can be my patient as long as you like Y/N. I will never kick you out,” he said, sitting down on top of the coffee table giving you and Dean both a smile. “Either of you. Dean, I’ve known you since you were a boy. Most of my career in fact. Y/N, I have seen you most every week for four years. Neither one of you wanted to come here and talk to me at first. But you trusted me and I thank you both for that. Now the thing with the boxes is, you can choose to open them or not. It’s up to you. I’ll never bring them up again. But I’ve seen the both of you come out of your shells, learn to trust and love yourselves and other people again over the past three months. You’ve been helping each other from the moment you met. You will both still get scared and you will have bad days again. You’re young people, it’s going to happen. But you have grown your support in your personal lives and at home with each other. I know you aren’t living together but I know it’s in the back of your minds to take that next step. You’ve shared some secrets with each other and…you two make a pretty cute couple if I’m being honest. I’m confident that both of you will do just fine.”

Dean nodded his head, running his thumb over the box. He tucked it into his coat pocket though, moving his hand to hold yours.

“Dr. Bram,” you said, putting Dean’s box in your pocket. “Thank you for giving a shit about me.”

“I give a shit about all my patients,” he said with a laugh. “Even if some of you kick and scream along the way. Literally.”

“I was four,” said Dean, holding up a hand.

“You broke my finger,” he said.

“I plead the fifth,” said Dean, shaking his head.

“I’ll be taking you both off the weekly schedule if you’d like,” said Dr. Bram.

“Can I still pop in every month?” you asked, Dean nodding.

“How about every three weeks and if you want it more or less we can go from there,” he said.

“I got a question,” said Dean, staring at the candy bowl. Dr. Bram raised an eyebrow and left the room, returning with a bag and dropping it in Dean’s lap. “I love you so much.”

“Don’t let him eat all of those at once,” said Dr. Bram, Dean already popping one in his mouth. “Now unless there was anything else you two had…I will see you both after you get back from your trip.”

You hummed, Dean heading out ahead of you, Dr. Bram smiling when you stayed behind.

“Yes?” he asked.

“Is it strange if I’m actually happy I was in that accident? It was hell and everytime I look in a mirror I can see what it did to me but I wouldn’t have met Dean otherwise and he’s…I’m not weird for thinking that, am I?” you asked.

“Life is weird,” he said. “But that’s not a weird thing to think at all. You and Dean…you grew up twenty minutes away from each other. I’m sure you would have bumped into each other eventually.”

“You some kind of hopeless romantic or something?” you asked.

“Just a bit,” he said. “Now go and be careful with that box of his. It’s very old.”

“I will,” you said, pausing at the door. “What breakthrough did Dean suddenly have?”

“He knows you love him unconditionally,” he said. “I’ve been suspecting it but I got to see it tonight.”

“But he knows his family does that,” you said.

“Dean needed that love to come from someone else, just like you,” he said.

“My parents are in England. I was thinking of going to see them while we were over there,” you said.

“If you do see them, I wish you the best. They do love you, Y/N. They just have a funny way of saying it sometimes,” he said.

“Hey,” said Dean, poking his head back in the room. “You okay?”

“Mhm,” you said. “Just saying bye.”

“I will see you both soon and you know you can always call or stop in for an emergency,” he said. “Now go home. And don’t lose those boxes!”


	18. Nice & Slow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader decides she’s ready to show herself to Dean…

**Friday Night**

You were up in your room after your shower, padding back in front of your dresser where Dean’s box sat at the feet of your fox, yours tucked next to his wolf. You smiled as you saw his wallet on top, a spare set of car keys and a receipt from lunch that day.

He’d moved in the day before, not that he had a lot of stuff but it felt so good knowing Dean would always be around. He was downstairs on the couch, watching a cooking show despite dinner just finishing. You hadn’t noticed the sauce all over your shirt and decided to take a quick shower once you found more on your arms.

You cocked your head as you bent down and opened up a drawer, pulling out a bra and pair of black underwear. You slipped them on and went to the bathroom, your hair mostly dry now, a pair of pajamas sitting on the bench.

“Hey, Dean. Can you come here?” you called, padding out to the middle of your room. Dean grunted back a yes, his footsteps loud as he came up the stairs. You swallowed when you saw the door open, taking a deep breath.

“What’s…” he said, eyes immediately going down to the floor.

“I mean, I’m not wearing this lacey bra and underwear for me, Dean,” you said, giving him a smirk. He raised his head, gaze roaming over every inch of exposed skin. He stepped over, carefully resting a hand over your ribs, tracing along the scar, darting his fingers over the ones on your stomach, back, hips, chest, a soft smile crossing his face.

“I love you,” he said, sliding his hands over your skin, almost tickling you. It wasn’t like he was trying to undress you or be seductive. He was just…feeling what he was allowed to touch. His hand lingered over a large scar on your right side, eyes locking with yours. “This one was bad, wasn’t it.”

“Almost died,” you said, Dean looking away. “It’s not your fault.”

“I won’t…I won’t let anything hurt you ever again. Not a man or a car or anything,” he said, pressing his lips to your forehead. You put your hands on his chest, curling your fingers in his shirt as you pulled him down, getting a proper kiss from him. “I know you’re excited but we said slow, Y/N.”

“I bet you’re really good at slow,” you said, brushing your lips against his ear. “Aren’t you?”

“What do you want to do?” he asked, voice low and a little ragged.

“Sex,” you said, grinning at him.

“If you want to stop, say stop,” he said.

“I will,” you said. Dean let you slide his shirt off while he pulled off his sweats, leaving him in his boxers. There was a slight bulge growing but Dean was guiding you back to the bed, sitting you down. He took a place next to you, moving to the middle. He crawled a hand to the back of your head, pulling you in for a deep kiss.

His other hand danced down your chest, not touching anything, ghosting down your stomach before he let his hand settle there. He focused on kissing you, letting his thumb brush lower every so often until he was dipping a finger under the waistband of your underwear. You took a deep breath when he pulled back an inch, sliding his hand over your mound, your heart jumping into your throat.

“Y/N,” he said quietly. You nodded but his hand didn’t move any further. “This is your body and I will never have a claim on it. I might call you mine or say some dirty things in bed someday but this body is and always will be yours, not mine. I don’t have a right to it, no matter what.”

“I know,” you said, grabbing his wrist. “Now touch me.”

He slid his hand down a fraction farther, your nerves lighting up when he toyed a finger between your folds and rubbed against your clit.

You squeezed his wrist and he stopped, eyes on you the whole time.

“No, no, it felt…good,” you said, looking away. “I…I didn’t touch myself up until recently and I’m still a bit sensitive I guess.”

“I want to make you feel amazing,” he said, starting a slow rhythm when you moved your hands away. He cupped your cheek and kissed you, moving down to your neck when you sucked in a breath. “You didn’t do this for four years?”

“No. Never thought I would want to either,” you said, getting control of your breathing just in time for Dean to slide his finger through your folds and gently press inside you. “Dean…”

“Is that a stop?” he asked.

“Yours feels better than mine,” you said, Dean chuckling against your shoulder. “I’m turned on. Get to the-”

“Shh,” he said, brushing his fingers to your lips. “Slow. I like slow. I am going to make sure you enjoy every single second of this, sweetheart.”

 

“Dean…” you breathed out, Dean hiking you up into his lap. His arm across your back pinned you to his chest, his hips giving a hard thrust that sent you over the edge. You buried your face in his neck, moaning his name as you came, Dean’s pace still driving his cock up into you every single time. You felt him tense up, his muscles rippling as he slowed his thrusts and grunted, eventually stilling when he dropped his head on your shoulder.

“I love you,” he murmured, kissing your shoulder, raising his head and finding yours, lifting it up so he could kiss you properly. He pulled you off of him and lay you on your back, Dean rolling off the bed. He was back after a moment, condom discarded and Dean crawling back in under the sheets, pulling you over to use his body as a pillow. You glanced up with hazy eyes, Dean’s arm curled around your back, playing with the ends of your hair while he wore a sleepy smile.

“Thank you,” you said. Dean hummed and grabbed your hip, tucking you in even closer until you were giggling. “I should have known my cuddler was such a big cuddler.”

“After sex cuddles are one of the best parts,” he said, resting his arm over your waist. He started to trace over your scar there, smiling to himself.

“What?” you said when he got quiet, his movements slowing, his body relaxing into a half-sleep.

“I’m a very lucky man is all,” he said, draping his arm over your body, wrapping the other one around so his hand rested on your arm.

“We’re both lucky,” you said, kissing his chest, Dean giggling as you threw your arm over his torso and gave him a hug. “I love you.”

“You’re making me blush over here,” he teased, closing his eyes. “Goodnight beautiful.”

“Goodnight handsome.”

 

**Monday Morning**

“Dean,” you said, Dean standing with his backpack just outside of security at the airport. “You okay?”

“Not really,” he said, taking your hand. You got him past security and made your way to your gate, Dean’s face pale as he shifted in his seat. “This first flight’s only a few hours, right?”

“A little more than three hours,” you said, holding his hand. “Then we have a four hour layover. We’ll get some lunch then, okay?”

“Sounds good,” he said. “I’m going to run to the bathroom.”

“Alright,” you said. Dean practically ran from his seat and you hoped he didn’t go in there because he felt sick. Dean returned a few minutes later with a bit more color in his cheeks. But still he was nervous when they called your gate to board, Dean frowning that you had to get on first.

His new customer was flying him first class so Dean made sure to get that for you as well, getting you in the third row right next to each other, Dean taking the aisle seat after he shoved your bags in the overhead bin.

He tugged his seatbelt on before most of the plane had even boarded, looking half terrified by the time the safety instructions were being relayed to you and the door was closed. Dean grabbed your hand when the plane started to move, squeezing it harder and harder until you had to pry it off.

“Sorry,” he said, gripping the armrest as you shook out your hand.

“Take a few deep breaths. I want you to tell me about your first memory,” you said. He cocked his head at you. “Come on, Dean.”

“I was little,” said Dean, nodding his head as he had to think back, your plan of distracting him working so far. “It was a hospital. Mom was in the hospital.”

“Why was she in the hospital?” you asked, holding Dean’s other hand, running your thumb over the back of it. Dean smiled to himself even though you could feel that you were getting onto the runway.

“Sammy,” said Dean, the plane starting to pick up speed. “It was the day Sammy was born. May 2nd. I remember it was nighttime.”

The plane was going faster now, Dean wincing as it started to get off the ground, pushing you back into your seats.

“What else?” you asked when Dean didn’t speak again.

“I remember Dad sat me down in a chair and told me to wait there and he’d be back soon. I think he asked a nurse to keep an eye on me but then he was gone and I saw him in a pair of scrubs quick in the hall. He rushed in a room and a few hours later, he came out with the biggest smile in the world,” said Dean, wearing one of his own. “I was so excited because I had a little sibling and I got to be a big brother finally.”

“That’s great, Dean,” you said, glad that he wasn’t noticing at all when there was a bit of turbulence as the plane climbed in the sky.

“He told me it was a boy and I thought that was so cool because I could teach him all the cool stuff I knew which granted at that age, wasn’t a lot but still. After a little while, I got to go in and see mom and Sammy. She looked so tired but happy too. Dad scooped me up and put me on the bed next to mom and then they put Sammy in my arms,” said Dean. “I never in a million years thought that little dude would grow up to be bigger than me.”

“You’re still his big brother,” you said, resting your head on his shoulder. “Thanks for telling me that Dean.”

“Thank you for distracting me,” he said, leaning his head on yours. “Is this how you plan on keeping me occupied?”

“I’ve got a few ideas.”

 

“I am so proud of you,” you said, giving Dean a hug when you finally landed at Heathrow in England, Dean giving you a tired smile. “You survived.”

“I can’t wait to get to our hotel room and crash. I already feel the jet lag,” he said, resting his head on your shoulder. “Where’s our hotel again?”

“Uh, somewhere in London?” you said. “I’ve never been here before.”

“I’m sure we’ll figure it out,” he said. It took twenty minutes for you to grab your bags and end up outside, climbing into one of the black taxi cabs and heading for the city. After what felt like hours later, you got to your hotel, Dean half-asleep as he told them the reservation. You were tired too but flying all day took a lot out of him, not just physically but anxiety wise too. You grabbed the key cards and got him to the elevators, getting you up to the sixth floor and down the hall, entering one of the suites. You flicked on the lights inside, Dean grumbling when he looked around and couldn’t find a bed. You grabbed his hands and led him further into the suite, pushing open a door and finding a big king sized bed inside.

You laughed when he moaned at the sight, pulling off his sneakers, shoving his shirt and pants to the ground and climbing on top of the bed in just his boxers.

“S’cold in here,” he mumbled, shifting around to lay on his stomach.

“I’ll find the thermostat,” you said, tugging the covers out from under him, pulling them over top and tucking him in, making sure his head had a pillow to lay on. He gave you a sleepy smile, holding your hand for a second when you trailed your fingers down his arm. “Get some sleep, honey and try to relax.”

“M’kay,” he mumbled. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” you said, kissing his forehead as he passed right out.

You gathered up his things and tucked them on one side of the bedroom for him, finding his bag and putting it close by. You got his phone in a charger and put some water by his side of the bed, Dean in a deep sleep by the time you were focusing on your own things. You felt a little gross after travelling all day and decided to take a shower, sighing happily at the spa quality bathroom.

After you felt clean and freshened up, you explored the suite a bit, finding some british TV show to watch and ordering a few sandwiches and snacks from room service. You got to the hotel around noon and knew Dean needed more sleep than you would. You made sure the leftover food went in the suite’s small kitchen area as you left a note for Dean that there was something there for him in case he woke up before you. You did an hour’s worth of work before you felt yourself nodding off and you headed for bed. You peeled back the covers and lay down next to Dean, out before you knew it.


	19. Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While in England, the reader gets more than a few surprises…

**Wednesday Morning**

“Hello gorgeous,” murmured Dean, kissing your nose as you started to stir. You peeled open an eye, Dean yawning in bed, tucking his sheets up around himself. “This bed is so comfy.”

“Sleep okay?” you asked, Dean nodding. “You didn’t have any nightmares last night.”

“We don’t have to fly again for two weeks,” he said, scooting closer to you. “I was up a little already before I crawled back in bed. Thanks for taking care of everything last night.”

“You had a rough day,” you said, running your hand through his hair. “Still have jet lag?”

“No, not anymore. You?” he asked. You shook your head, Dean rolling over in the bed and throwing his arms around you. “Want to go have one of those full english breakfasts or whatever they’re called?”

“Sure but I want to take another one of those showers,” you said. “It was amazing.”

“Hm. Can I take one of these showers?” he asked, trailing his hand down to your hip. You stretched in bed and threw back the covers, peeling off his shirt you’d worn to bed, giving him a view of your backside.

“Well what are you waiting for?” you asked as you looked back over your shoulder. “It’s big enough for two afterall.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

 

You went with Dean to his lunch with his new client, the people seeming very friendly and like they’d give him some privacy and respect during the shoots. There were a few initial shots for an hour or so like the branding session you’d gone to with Dean back in St. Louis. After Dean told you he was okay with being there on his own, you grabbed your computer and did a bit of work in a cafe close to the hotel, taking in everything that was so similar but so different in another country.

You pulled out your phone after a while and texted your mom, telling her you were in London and maybe you could meet up. You hadn’t spoken since December, over three months ago. You weren’t surprised when she didn’t write back, you weren’t expecting her to. But the offer was out there at least.

 

“Dinner was so good,” you said that night walking around London after your big meal, your arm wrapped Dean’s.

“We should go back there before we head home,” he said, pulling your fox hat down over your face.

“What are you doing, you-”

“Y/N?” you heard. Oh. Now you knew what Dean was doing. Trying to hide your face. You pushed your hat up some, swallowing hard when you saw the couple stopped in front of you.

“Hey, mom. Dad,” you said, looking at Dean. He seemed as lost as you, your gaze immediately going down. “I uh…”

You felt Dean tense up, your head lifting enough to see his fist and jaw start to clench.

“Don’t,” you said quietly, giving Dean a look. You forced your head up, your parents with blank expressions. “Let’s go, Dean.”

“Pumpkin…” said your dad, both your parents looking at each other, taking a deep breath. “Can we sit down and talk? Please?”

You nodded, Dean moving his hand to lace together with yours. You followed your parents quietly down the block, popping into some cafe, ordering some coffee and tea, Dean still holding your hand under the table.

“You look good,” said your mom. You stared at her for a moment before you reached up and pulled off your hat, both of them glancing away when they saw your scar.

“Do you two remember when I asked you for help? So I wouldn’t have to live with this giant thing on my face? When you said no and told me I was never pretty so what was the big deal?” you said. They both looked down at their laps, Dean grunting and their gazes lifting. “You know, these scars screwed me up with how I feel about myself. But the guy you two both said I wasn’t classy enough for, he’s been my family. He’s the one that got me to the point where I’m not terrified to show people this scar because trust me, I was fucked up and you two…you never even came to visit me in the hospital. I almost died.”

You were expecting them to cut in with some excuse but they were both tight lipped, faces neutral.

“I was assaulted and you sent me to therapy and told me to be more careful next time. You are two of the shittiest people I’ve ever met,” you said, glaring at them. “You two, you two, screwed me up just as much as what happened that night. You two have let other people raise me, take care of me, help me when I needed it, my entire life. I don’t know why when this accident happened, I expected it to be any different. But next time something happens, I want you to know I don’t need you two. I don’t. Dean will take care of me. My new family will take care of me. I don’t need you. But I still want you to give a crap about me. I don’t know if you even care right now but I just want to know one thing. Did you ever, ever, care about me?”

“Yes,” said you mom quietly, looking at your dad. “We love you. We’re just bad parents.”

“You got that right,” you said, glaring between them.

“We can give you the money for the surgery-”

“It’s not about the money, dad,” you said, rubbing your palm against your forehead, grabbing you fox hat and shoving it back on. “I wanted my parents. I don’t even know why but I did. You make me feel bad. I’m not saying it to be mean, I’m not. It’s just how things are. If us not talking makes me feel better, I think we should do that.”

You dad looked at Dean, giving him a long stare.

“What do you think?” he asked dryly.

“I think if you don’t want this to be the last conversation you ever have with your daughter, you should act like a damn adult and support her from now on, not put her down. After everything I have learned about you two, I am amazed at how kind, sweet, and supportive she is. She’s a good person. She’s there for me. She’s helped me fix my relationship with my own dad. She trusts me and I’m telling you that if you two want some of that trust back, you better start earning it. She does love you but I told her I would protect her from getting hurt again and that includes you two,” said Dean, narrowing his gaze. “Understand?”

“I would not hurt my daughter,” he said.

“You could have fooled me,” said Dean.

You sighed, glancing at your mom.

“I think Dean has a point,” she said. “We won’t solve this in one conversation. But we can try to be better. If Y/N will let us.”

“We can try,” you said, Dean giving you a smile. “But slowly.”

 

“Hey,” said Dean, plopping down on the hotel bed about a week and a half later. He’d finished up his shoots with the new client earlier that day, happy with how they’d worked out. “How’d the day with your parents go?”

“It was…interesting,” you said. “They’re still…them but they did apologize for not being around so much.”

“Well it’s a start at least,” he said, hopping up from the bed. “Come on. Move that cute butt. We have to check out soon and grab the car.”

“Huh?” you said, Dean pulling you to your feet. “Our flight home isn’t for days.”

“You’re right, it’s not. We’re officially on the non working part of our trip,” he said, throwing his arms over your shoulders. “You’ll love it.”

“Where are we going?” you asked.

“We’re going to stay somewhere else,” he said, wearing a big smirk. “Come on, we got a reservation for later and I don’t want to miss it.”

 

“Uh,” you said, Dean nodding when he pulled in front of the new place you were staying. “Where are we?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked with a laugh.

“It’s a…bed and breakfast?” you asked.

“Hm, I guess it is,” he said, hopping out of the car. You got out after him, grabbing your bags from the trunk. It wasn’t a huge place but it was very pretty and you were outside the city, tucked away in some sleepy little village if you had to guess. Dean got most of the bags, letting you get your backpack.

“Wow,” you said when you walked inside, looking around the lobby area. “How old do you think this place is?”

“1659,” said a man coming down a hall, wearing a big smile. “If it isn’t the Winchesters.”

“Hey Gavin,” said Dean, giving the man a hug when he walked over. “This is-”

“Y/N,” said Gavin, giving you a big hug and picking you up off the ground. “We still can’t believe you got Dean to fly all the way over here.”

“Uh, sorry but who are you?” you asked, Gavin chuckling as he moved around to behind the front desk.

“Apologies,” he said. “You’ve met my better half, Steffie.”

“Is that them?” you heard from above you, a head poking over a balcony. “Hey guys!”

“It looks like you guys are keeping busy,” said Dean, Steffie jogging down the steps.

“Yeah but we love it,” she said, giving you each a hug. “I just finished up with your suite. I can check you in if you want to grab their bags, Gav?”

“Yes mam,” he said, chuckling as he went past and started to gather up your things. You saw a few other couples milling about, Steffie grabbing Dean’s card as she typed away behind the desk and handed over a set of keys.

“I didn’t realize you were going to retire from modeling so soon,” you said, Steffie laughing.

“Yeah. After that incident with the photographer, I had another shoot and something similar happened and said fuck that, I’m done. Gavin’s super happy I’m out of the business. He says I’m happier which I suppose I am,” she said. “I’m still dabbling here and there for local stuff to help out with some of the renovation bills we had but I like this so much more. We specialize in couples here.”

“This place is gorgeous,” you said, looking around.

“When you guys get a minute, we’ll show you around the house and grounds. It is pretty cool getting to live in a fairytale everyday,” she said.

“We’ll take you up on that,” said Dean, grabbing the keys. “But we are gotta run. We have a hot date tonight.”

“I know,” she said with a smirk, giving you a wink. “He got the super romantic package so-”

“Shut up,” mumbled Dean, pulling you away.

“Bye, Steffie,” you said with a laugh, Dean tugging you over the large staircase. “So, you got the romantic package huh?”

“Oh, shut up,” he said, bumping your shoulder. “I hope you like this part of it.”

 

“I can’t believe we’re eating dinner in a castle,” you said, looking around the restaurant, trying to take it all in.

“I thought it’d be romantic or something,” he said with a shrug, smiling from the other side of the table.

“You’re not going to propose, are you?” you asked, Dean laughing as he shook his head.

“No, no,” he said. You tilted your head, Dean tilting his back.

“Dean,” you said.

“Hm?” he asked, sipping on his drink. You stared at him, green eyes crinkling in the corners from his smile. “Sweetheart?”

“Thanks for bringing me along on your trip,” you said.

“My pleasure.”

 

**Six Months Later**

“Dr. Jones,” you said, giving him a smile as you took a seat in his office. “It’s been a while.”

“Yes it has. The accident was about a year ago now, wasn’t it?” he asked, sitting down across his desk from you. “I was a little surprised to get your call.”

“I’ve been saving and figuring out what I want,” you said.

“Well, let’s start with an evaluation of how everything’s healed and go from there.”


	20. Never Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and the reader have a quiet Saturday morning where the pair heal some old scars…

**Two Weeks Later**

You cocked your head as you stared at yourself in the mirror, Dean chuckling behind you as he walked out of the shower.

“What? Do you miss it?” asked Dean, trailing a finger across your forehead.

“No,” you said, not even able to tell there’d ever been a mark there. “S’just weird not seeing it anymore.”

“What about the rest of you?” he asked, trailing his finger over the scars you’d decided to leave.

“If people got a problem with the way I look, that’s their problem, not mine,” you said, smiling in the mirror at him. “Besides, I’ve been told guys dig scars. Especially this really cute one.”

“Oh, really? How cute is he?” asked Dean, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Like, super cute,” you said.

“ _Like, super cute_?” asked Dean, making his voice higher, wrapping his arms around you when you started to giggle. “I do have one question for you though, honey.”

“I saved up for them all,” you said, Dean nodding. “But I only got rid of the couple. I know.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because you don’t care and you never have. I don’t care. I am pretty and these scars are just like the other ‘flaws’ I have like freckles or moles or that my legs are little bit more pale than the rest of my body. Who cares? If someone else does, it’s on them, not me. I like me,” you said, turning your head.

“I love you,” he said, giving you a hug.

“I love you too,” you said, kissing his cheek.

“I still get to see you in your fox hat though, right?” he asked. You laughed and nodded, returning to getting ready for the day.

You didn’t have any big plans for the September day apart from having Dean’s family and some other people over for a bonfire and cookout. You bought everything you needed earlier in the week and Dean had already chopped up some firewood the day before.

“Hey,” said Dean when you were sipping on your morning coffee, grabbing your hand. You followed him to your backyard, taking a seat on your padded bench on the deck, kicking your feet up on the railing, looking at the tidy yard with most of the trees already starting to turn pretty yellows and oranges.

“You got something on your mind,” you said. “Was it about what happened this morning?”

“Would you marry me?” he asked. He had a soft smile on his face, arm around your shoulders, his heart surely beating out of his chest. “I’ve sort of been hopelessly in love with you for a long time and I never came up with a good enough speech so I figured what the hell, I’ll just ask.”

“Yes,” you said, resting your head on his shoulder with a smile, staring up at him. Dean nodded and gave you a smile back, leaning over to give you a short kiss.

“Well if I’d known it was that easy, I would have asked months ago,” he said, resting his head on top of yours.

“You really have always thought I was beautiful, haven’t you?” you asked.

“I knew I was in trouble the second I saw you,” he said. “I thought it was a crush and then it started to turn into something else and I’m so glad you gave me a chance.”

“Me too,” you said, lacing your fingers together with his in your lap. “You helped fixed everything that was broken.”

“See, that’s the funny thing. I never thought you were broken. You never thought I was. Together, I think we finally figured out how to help each other. We aren’t perfect but bad days aren’t so bad anymore,” he said. You hummed, taking a deep breath as you felt a warm fall breeze drift across your face.

“I love you,” you said quietly, his fingers dancing along your arm.

“I love you. So, so much.”

 

“So,” said Sam, wearing a shit-eating grin that night, sipping on a beer in the backyard. “I hear you two had a nice morning. As your soon to be brother-in-law, it’s officially my job to tease the shit out of you.”

“You do that now, jerk,” you said, whacking his arm, Sam chuckling as he handed you a beer, leaning back against the railing while Dean talked to a few people around the fire. “How long was he planning this?”

“Since your Europe trip,” said Sam. “He said something like he always knew you were the one but that confirmed it for him.”

“Confirmed it?” you said.

“Dean,” said Sam with a small laugh. “He didn’t want to ask unless he knew he was the one for you too.”

“Seriously?” you asked.

“You know Dean. He never thought he deserved you,” said Sam, giving Dean a smile across the yard, Dean cocking his head at both of you. “Totally a good thing you said yes since Carla flew all the way out here.”

“I should have realized he was up to something when he invited the entire family over for a party…plus my parents,” you said. “I don’t know if they’ll show. Last I talked to them, they were in Florida.”

“Of course we showed,” you heard behind you. You spun around, your dad in jeans and a flannel, your head tilting at the strange sight. Your mom didn’t have a speck of makeup on, wearing her own flannel and some black jeans. They set down a cooler near some of the others, your dad holding a bag of chips. “We brought snacks too.”

“You guys are…not dressed up,” you said, looking them up and down. “And you brought…beer.”

“Well, Dean did say it was BYOB which we didn’t understand so thankfully he explained it to us,” he said.

“We got you a little engagement present. Just a new mixer. You said your old one was breaking on you last time we talked,” said your mom, putting her hands on her hips. “We left it in the kitchen. The house looks cute. I like that painting you have by the door of the wolf and fox.”

“You actually came,” you said, both of them nodding as Dean walked over, Sam taking his cue to leave.

“Glad you guys could make it,” said Dean, taking hold of your hand. “It means a lot to both of us.”

“Well, your daughter only gets engaged once…hopefully,” said your dad with a nervous laugh.

“I went and talked to your parents awhile ago,” said Dean.

“You asked permission?” you asked, Dean nodding.

“I know Dean and I got off on the wrong foot,” said your dad. “But your mom and I got in touch with Dr. Bram not long after we saw you in England and he helped us find someone for us to go and talk to. When Dean called up and asked to talk a few months ago…by then I could see he was only protecting you back in that cafe.”

“We know it’s still strange but…your dad and I are done with traveling for a while. We got a new place in Kansas City so we’re forty minutes away. We want to see you more often,” said your mom.

“Yeah, that’s…I’d like that,” you said with a nod.

“Good,” she said, looking at your father. “Come on, we have to meet our in-laws at some point.”

“We’re gonna go be somewhere else, have fun!” said Dean, dragging you off, laughing when he looked back over his shoulder. “Sorry but I do not want to be part of that awkward conversation.”

“No, please, get us away from those four,” you said with a laugh, walking around the front of the house, nearly crashing into someone walking in through the back gate. “Sorry, I…Dr. Bram?”

“Hi,” he said, giving you and Dean each a smile, the man so strange looking out of his normal suit. “Party’s in the back I assume?”

“Yeah,” said Dean, Dr. Bram nodding. “To be honest, I didn’t think you’d come.”

“Eh, normally I wouldn’t but I haven’t seen either of you for quite a while and this is strictly a friend visit. Didn’t I say something about you two turning out just fine without me?” he said, dragging a cooler behind him.

You raised an eyebrow as he walked into the backyard, Dean still laughing as he pulled you around and in through the front of the house. You followed him upstairs and to your room, Dean walking over to your fox and wolf, picking up the boxes at their feet.

“I thought maybe tonight would be a good night to look at these,” said Dean. You took the light blue one from him, Dean watching you.

“How old were you when you wrote this?” you asked, tugging off the blue ribbon.

“I think I was seven. I was old enough to write but that’s about all I can remember,” he said. You smiled as you peeled off the lid, turning away from Dean so he couldn’t read it.

_I hope I’m wanted._

You put the box down and slammed the lid back on it, closing your eyes.

“What? I draw a silly picture or something?” he asked.

“No,” you breathed out. You shook your head a few times, biting your bottom lip. You crawled over and gave him a hug, Dean running a hand up and down your back.

“You’re scaring me, Y/N,” he said.

“Don’t be,” you said, moving your fingers through his hair, Dean leaning into the touch. “Because what you wrote down, I know you know that you are. It just hurt to see that you felt that way.”

“I guess I should look at yours now,” he said. You nodded, remembering what you wrote but still moving back for Dean to have privacy. You saw his shoulders slump and he moved the box to the side, turning to you with a smile.

“So…” you said with a shrug, Dean pulling you into his lap. “What do you think?”

 _“‘I hope he doesn’t think I’m too broken,’”_  said Dean, resting his forehead against yours.

“You never did,” you said, Dean nodding his head, pressing his lips to yours. “You hoped you were wanted.”

“I am,” he said, leaning back to look at you. “So are you.”

“I know,” you said, leaning in for a kiss. You could hear a loud laugh outside, more people arriving from the sounds of it.

“We should probably get back to our party,” said Dean, not moving an inch.

“Yeah, definitely,” you said, throwing your arms around his shoulders. Dean leaned up and kissed your forehead, lingering his lips there. “In a minute.”

“In a minute,” he said quietly, some music from outside drifting into the house.

“Would you dance with me?” you asked, Dean humming. You stood up and backed away from the bed, Dean twirling you around the room for a moment before pulling you into his chest.

“I get to spend the rest of my life with you,” he said, rocking you both back and forth.

“I can’t wait,” you said, Dean smiling back at you.

“Me either, sweetheart. Me either.”


	21. Dean's Question Timestamp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is ready to make a life changing decision but he’s not sure how to go about it and the one person he would normally talk to is off limits…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This timestamp is written in Dean's POV...

“Dean,” said Sam, tossing a pillow in his direction from where they sat on the couch. Dean barely flinched, instead shoving it behind his back and keeping his gaze on the TV. “Alright, dude. Something’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” said Dean, crossing his arms, trying to focus on the show.

“Yeah. Obviously,” said Sam, rolling his eyes.

“Don’t go Dr. Bram on me, Sammy. I’m fine,” said Dean.

“You got away with that excuse my whole life. Shit’s different now. I know you don’t go regularly anymore so if I see you acting funny, I’m gonna call you out on it,” said Sam. “Did your trip with Y/N not go good?”

“No. It was amazing. I mean the plane part sucked but it was really incredible,” said Dean.

“…well did you have a fight or something before she left for her work conference this week?” asked Sam.

“No. I made her breakfast and dropped her off at the airport yesterday. I just talked to her on the phone half hour ago and she sounded good. She’s been doing really good too lately. You’ve seen her. She doesn’t even think twice about wearing short sleeve shirts anymore,” said Dean.

“If it’s not Y/N then what is it?” asked Sam.

“It is Y/N,” said Dean with a shrug. “It’s just…I love her.”

“Kind of totally obvious dude,” teased Sam.

“No, Sammy. I mean, I really  _really_  love her. I know…part of me always knew from the start but…she’s my person, Sam. You know I‘m…you know how my head is and Y/N made me feel like I’m not treading water anymore. You kept me from drowning in it and it’s like she’s the one that pointed out if I just stand up I’d be okay and I won’t drown. It’s not a dig on you, I just-“

“You love her,” said Sam with a smile. “S’okay Dean. I love my new sister too and not just because of what she’s done for you.”

“Yeah,” said Dean, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t want to screw it up though. I’m freaking terrified of screwing it up.”

“She’s sort of hopelessly in love with you too, Dean,” said Sam, laughing as he relaxed back into the couch, still watching Dean carefully. “Oh. You want to propose.”

Dean only felt a slight heat in his cheeks as he looked at his younger brother, giving a careful nod.

“You’ve been dating about what, five months?” asked Sam.

“About that. I’m not gonna like, go ask this weekend or anything,” said Dean. “But I know I want to and that someday I will and I don’t…”

“Want to screw it up?” asked Sam. Dean hummed, Sam smiling at him. “How exactly could you screw it up?”

“I say the wrong thing or do the wrong thing or I ask and it’s too soon or I ask and she flat out says no and if she says no then I swear to god I’m calling off all dating forever and-“

Sam stood up and walked out of the family room and into Dean’s kitchen, finding a mug with a cute wolf on it and making some hot chocolate. He shoved it in Dean’s hands, staring at him until he took a sip.

“I don’t have a lot of experience in serious relationships but I don’t think there’s a right and wrong time for any of this crap. You tell her I love you when you love her. You moved in like a month a half ago and you’re even closer, not farther apart. You do stuff when it feels right, not on a timetable. I mean, is she your best friend?” asked Sam.

“Yeah,” said Dean. “Duh.”

“Well she’s yours and best friends want each other to be happy. So instead of thinking of it as worst case for you, ask yourself…would you want your best friend to marry someone they weren’t completely in love with?” asked Sam.

“No,” said Dean with a smile. “I want her to be happy, whether it’s with me or someone else.”

“So stop worrying because she knows that’s the kind of guy you are and you do make her happy. She’s gonna say yes, whenever you do decide to ask,” said Sam.

“You drop any hints about this-“

“I won’t. I promise,” said Sam. “Better now you got that off your chest?”

“A little. There’s another issue actually…”

 

**Two Months Later**

“Hey, Dr. Bram,” said Dean, popping his head in his office. He’d only been one other time since his joint session with Y/N and saw the slight concern on the doctor’s face at his out of the blue phone call.

“Dean,” said Dr. Bram, giving him a smile. “It’s been a while. How are things?”

“Good. I’m good,” said Dean. Dr. Bram shut the door behind him, Dean sitting down in his usual spot, immediately taking some candy from the bowl.

“So what’s up?” asked Dr. Bram, taking a seat in his chair across from Dean.

“I…I’ve asked a few different people about this but I still don’t know the answer,” said Dean.

“Some questions other people can’t answer for you, Dean and you know I’m not going to give you one. I’ll help you lay it all out but I won’t make a decision for you,” he said.

“I know,” said Dean with a shy smirk. “It’s why I wanted to talk to you.”

“So what do you want to talk about?” asked Dr. Bram.

“I want…I’m going to propose to Y/N. I don’t know when but once I figure out how I want to do it, I will,” said Dean.

“That doesn’t sound like a question,” said Dr. Bram with a soft smile. “Before we get to your question, I would like to talk about you proposing since it’s a very large life step.”

“Like what?” asked Dean.

“How many years have I known you, Dean?” asked Dr. Bram.

“About 27,” said Dean.

“So basically your whole life,” he said.

“Basically,” said Dean. “Not sure where you’re going with this…”

“It’s pretty unique. Most therapists don’t deal with a child and then watch that child grow up and turn into a man,” said Dr. Bram.

“Dude. The point you’re making is going way over my head,” said Dean.

“From the moment you walked in this room, correction, were dragged in this room by your parents and took a swing at me…” said Dr. Bram, Dean holding up his hands.

“Hey. Not my fault a 4 year old was tougher than you,” said Dean with a laugh.

“From the moment you walked in this room, Dean, you have been afraid. Afraid of something. Always. Afraid your dad left you in that house fire on purpose. Afraid you weren’t wanted, weren’t worth anything, were second class to everyone else. Afraid you were weak, afraid you were a failure, a disappointment, a son, a person, that wasn’t worthy of love. Even as an adult you were afraid to get close, afraid of pain and rejection, afraid you aren’t good enough. You have been afraid your entire life, Dean,” he said.

“And?” asked Dean.

“And now I see you are hopeful about your future with another person. You are happy and I know whatever you’re about to ask isn’t if you deserve Y/N. You are excited, maybe still a bit afraid but all of us are a little afraid, Dean. We have to live with it though and not let it be the main thing that drives us and I know it’s not driving you anymore,” he said.

“Thanks,” said Dean, giving a nod.

“Okay,” said Dr. Bram with a laugh. “Ask your burning question, Dean.”

“I always thought that if I found the right person for me, I would ask that person’s parents permission to marry them. To be respectful and it’s a bit old fashioned and all that but it was always something I thought I would do. But the relationship Y/N has with her parents, the relationship I have with them…I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” said Dean. “I want to ask but I’m asking people that don’t respect her and I don’t like how poorly they’ve treated her and if that’s the case then what the hell is the point of asking?”

“If you don’t ask, do you think you’ll regret it?” asked Dr. Bram.

“Maybe. To be honest, I don’t care if they say yes or no because it’s Y/N’s choice, not theirs. I always thought I would do that to be respectful to my potential future in laws,” he said.

“If they said no, would you still ask Y/N to marry you?” asked Dr. Bram.

“Yeah,” said Dean.

“Then this isn’t an issue about respecting your in laws Dean, not really. It’s about you wanting to bridge a gap but you’re afraid to put down the first plank,” he said.

“It’s the right thing to do,” said Dean.

“There is no right thing when it comes to marriage and love, Dean. I know your relationship with Y/N, probably better than most other people in your lives. You have the love and partnership part down. You have respect and friendship. Yes, trying to get along with your partner’s family is important but we both know that this situation is not about Y/N. It’s about you,” said Dr. Bram.

“How is this about me?” asked Dean.

“Y/N’s in the street, minding her own business. Maybe she’s picking up a piece of mail that the wind caught out of her hand. You’re in the driveway washing your car. She bends down to grab it just when you see a car come speeding down the road,” said Dr. Bram.

“I remember this question and I’m giving the same answer I gave for Sammy back in the day,” said Dean.

“The point is you want to protect her,” said Dr. Bram.

“You’re married. You have kids. You’re saying the right answer isn’t-“

“Dean,” said Dr. Bram. “Protecting people you care for is not a crime. It’s generally a perfectly healthy thing and I’m not saying you have an unhealthy need to protect Y/N.”

“Give it to me straight then, would you?” asked Dean.

“Well why are you really asking Y/N’s parents permission to marry their daughter?” he asked.

“I already told-“

“No, you didn’t. You’re not a child and you know I have and will never judge you for a single thing you say in this room and I have seen you in some very bad places, Dean. Just be honest with yourself. Why is it so important to ask?” asked Dr. Bram.

Dean closed his eyes, staring at his lap when he opened them a moment later, grabbing the bottom of his flannel and rubbing his fingers over the hem.

“It’s like you said. I’m afraid,” said Dean. “I’m afraid of fucking up everything. I’m 31 years old and I feel like I’m a stupid kid that can’t grow up.”

“Dean,” said Dr. Bram. “We’re taking a break for two minutes.”

Dean sighed but waited out the two minutes, a lot of the negative comments he wanted to make falling away.

“Now, I will ask again why asking is so important to you and I want a real answer this time,” said Dr. Bram.

“I didn’t get along with my dad. I mean, you know how I thought he felt about me and how I felt about myself and that stuff is so much better now. Honestly. But I guess…do you remember that time I wanted to runaway?” asked Dean.

“Yes. You were eight,” said Dr. Bram. “That wasn’t a fun evening.”

“I remember I had to talk to a cop and another woman,” said Dean.

“You were scaring me that night, Dean. I had to make sure that you were in a safe home,” he said.

“I know. I know that,” said Dean. “Dad was so careful around me for months after that, like he didn’t want to upset me.”

“What about the running away, Dean?” he asked.

“Remember…I had a big fight with Sammy. I don’t even remember what over, probably a toy or a game. The kid was only four after all. I remember him saying he hated me and wished I wasn’t his brother. My mom came in and tried to settle things down but she sided with Sam and I just took that as my whole family hates me and wished I wasn’t around. But it was Monday so it was Dr. Bram night. I got here and thought Dr. Bram is nice. He likes me. Maybe he can help me find a family that I’m good enough for,” said Dean.

“You got better after that night,” said Dr. Bram.

“Because I realized that someday I’d grow up and I could find someone I loved and they’d have a family and their family could be my new one,” said Dean.

“You never told me that,” said Dr. Bram.

“I didn’t want to get anyone in trouble again,” said Dean. Dr. Bram pinched the bridge of his nose, Dean looking away. “Dr. Bram, I swear my parents never-“

“I know. I know your parents love you very much,” said Dr. Bram.

“So I…I think it comes from this little kids dream of that was how I got a new family because surely any girl that loved me was going to come from the nicest people there ever were,” he said. “But in reality, they’re assholes.”

“Do you want a new family?” asked Dr. Bram. “No more Sam, no more Mary or John. No more cousins, aunts, uncles…you’re an adult Dean. You’re allowed to leave them behind if you want.”

“No,” said Dean. “They’re my family.”

“So you don’t want a new one?” he asked.

“I want Y/N in it and she is in it. I want her to be happy in it too,” said Dean.

“It sounds to me like you weren’t addressing the right question,” said Dr. Bram.

“It’s not me finding a new family. It’s me being afraid when I ask her parents if they want to join ours they say no…because I know what it’s like to have a bad relationship with my dad and I know what it feels like now that we’ve fixed it, fixed the bad parts. I want that for her too and I don’t want her to get stuck choosing us or them because they are assholes but I want her to have the option,” said Dean.

“See? You knew the whole time why you really wanted to ask,” said Dr. Bram with a smile.

“You are a dick sometimes,” said Dean, shaking his head at him.

“So now that you know the why you want to ask, I think that will help you figure out if you actually will,” he said. “And that’s five bucks to the swear jar.”

“Five bucks? Y/N gets to swear and she said she’s never had to pay-“

“Swear jar, Winchester,” he said. Dean grumbled as he pulled out his wallet and slapped five bucks down in the table. “Are you feeling better now?”

“Not really,” said Dean. Dr. Bram hummed and stood up, going to his computer.

“Alright, you got the next hour booked too so let’s keep going,” he said as he did something on it.

“But it’s Friday. You only do half days,” said Dean.

“Like I said, let’s keep going.”

 

**One Month Later**

Dean had to wait until he had an excuse to travel without Y/N knowing about it. Carla invited her out to LA for a few days for a girls trip up the coast, completely and one hundred percent at Dean’s begging so he’d have a chance to get away. After Carla knew why he wanted it a secret, she was down to help but he felt bad about lying to Y/N.

Still, this was something he needed to do on his own.

The flight to Florida was fast and Dean barely checked into his hotel before he was driving to the Y/L/N’s place. A waterfront gated community on a golf course that oozed money and made Dean’s stomach churn. His jaw dropped when he saw their house and realized Y/N grew up in places like this. For a moment he panicked, thinking he wasn’t good enough, didn’t give her enough but paused like he needed to. Y/N was the same chick that wore ten year old sneakers, the same that shopped at Walmart, the same that used her own money she earned and saved the rest for things like her scar surgery.

God, Dean knew she was getting close to going back to the doctor and making a plan with him. Maybe another month or two at most. She’d found a new scar cream that her insurance covered that worked a lot better than the original one, even the few stubborn ones that never faded blending in more. Plus it acted as a sunscreen which Dean was grateful she’d actually been putting on considering how hot and sunny it’s been that spring.

Dean eventually climbed out of the rental car and walked up to the front door, only slightly surprised when a woman opened the door.

“Mr. Winchester?” she asked. “The Y/L/N’s are on the patio. Lunch will be served shortly. Can I get you anything to drink?”

“A bottle of water is fine,” said Dean, the woman smiling as she lead him through a large main hall that went to the back of the house, Dean pausing when he caught a picture on the wall. “She’s adorable.”

“Ms. Y/L/N always impressed me with how she could be throwing a tantrum over being put in a dress one moment and look like a darling angel in front of the camera in the next,” she said with a smile.

“Are you Miss Abby?” asked Dean, the woman smiling. “Y/N’s mentioned you a few times.”

“Abby, sir,” she said with a laugh.

“Well Abby, I’m just Dean,” he said with a chuckle.

“I like you, Dean,” she said, showing him the bathroom and kitchen, Dean catching glimpses of a few more photos along the way. He could see the smile get a bit more forced as the years went on, so subtle he wasn’t surprised these other people didn’t pick up on it. He was pretty sure no one on earth knew Y/N’s smile like he did. “Mr. Winchester has arrived Mr. Y/L/N.”

“Thank you, Abby,” said Y/N’s father, standing from his patio chair, holding a glass of wine in one hand. “Dean, glad you could make it. Flight down okay?”

“Yeah,” said Dean.

“Y/N mentioned when we were in London you’re not a big fan of it,” he said.

“Not really but shorter flights I’m okay with,” said Dean, getting his bottle of water when Abby returned. “Thanks.”

“Abby, give him some wine and put that water in a glass,” he said, Abby quickly taking it back and walking away. “Sorry about that.”

“I asked for a bottle of water so…” said Dean, forgetting about that battle for the moment. He heard the door open again and watched Y/N’s mom step outside in a nice sundress.

“Hello, Dean,” she said, a little cool, not quite cold and Dean was going to run with it for now. After making idle chit chat about his travel and hotel, Abby returned with three plates full of a nice looking cooked salmon and something on the side even Dean wasn’t sure of. He was quiet as he ate, Y/N’s parents talking about how this was one of their summer houses and had a great view of the ocean from the second floor and a wonderful view of the golf course from the back.

Dean hummed as they talked, watching them point out things in the backyard, poking at the dessert fruit salad Abby brought out after a while. It was a nice home and all but Dean could tell why Y/N had hated most of the houses she grew up in. It just felt cold there.

“So Dean, before we chat your ear off, what brings you down to our neck of the woods? You mentioned wanting to talk to us in person and not to tell Y/N about it?” asked Y/N’s father.

“Yes, I did,” said Dean, sitting forward in his seat. “I would like to marry your daughter.”

“You were not very kind to us last we spoke,” said her father.

“I know. I was attempting to protect Y/N from what I saw as something harmful to her,” said Dean.

“We’re her parents,” said her mom.

“Anyone can screw and make a kid. Being a parent is more than that,” said Dean, getting a glare from them both. “Parents do not go years without seeing their child when they have money out their asses and can afford to stop by and visit. They don’t let other people raise their children. They don’t put their children down. They do not blame their child when they are attacked, especially when it was by someone they trusted. All your daughter ever wanted was to be worth your time, to have some attention and that is not selfish of her. It’s human. You were not good parents to her. Plain and simple, you were not. To be honest, I don’t like either one of you but your daughter loves you so I’m going to try for her.”

“If we’re being honest, Dean, I think you’re abrasive, cocky and think you know everything,” said Y/N’s father. “And the old me probably would have tossed you out the door and said good riddance.”

“But last time we saw you, the only time we’ve met you, I saw how true it was when you said we had to change or lose our daughter. We were losing her far before you showed up,” said Y/N’s mom, her face easing some.

“After England and we came home again, we contacted Dr. Bram. He’s been very successful with Y/N and we asked about getting some help for ourselves,” said Y/N’s dad.

“Yourselves?” asked Dean.

“We’ve been seeing a therapist here for close to three months. Twice a week,” said her mom.

“How’s that?” asked Dean.

“We weren’t big fans at first but we think it’s helping,” she said.

“You could apologize to Abby for how you spoke to her earlier. She asked what I wanted, I told her, and you assumed she was incorrect,” said Dean.

“I will. Abby is very much involved with helping us see mistakes along with other members of staff,” said her father.

“It’s not mistakes. You’re just learning how to be a better person,” said Dean.

“That’s insightful,” said Y/N’s mom.

“It’s a Dr. Bram thing,” said Dean.

“Have you gone with Y/N before?” she asked.

“Once. I’m a patient of his as well, have been since I was a kid,” said Dean. He watched them look at each other, lips parting as Dean lifted his chin. “When I say it’s possible to salvage a relationship with Y/N, I’m speaking from personal experience with my own father. But you two have to try like your life depends on it. I listen when you talk on the phone with her. You talk about yourselves a lot and not so much her. You should ask her about her life more. It means more than you realize.”

“You said you came here to ask permission to marry our daughter yet it sounds like you’re trying to tell us how to be parents,” said Y/N’s dad.

“I just want you to be kind and good to her and if you’re not, stay out of her life. Give her that courtesy. She’s a grown woman. She doesn’t need you to raise her. She just needs you to be there for her when she needs it,” said Dean.

“How exactly do you know that?” he asked.

“I have a father that disowned me about a year ago. Now we have the best relationship we’ve ever had in our entire lives. I know it’s only like that because Y/N said things to him I couldn’t, stood up for me when I couldn’t. She wanted him to realize he was hurting me and when he did, he changed, for me. All I’m trying to do is give that back to her. I want you to be a part of our lives, a part of our family, but only if you actually learn what that means,” said Dean.

“Y/N wasn’t in our plan,” said her father after a long few silent moments, staring out across the golf course. “Kids weren’t. Then she showed up and we were so, so happy. When she got home from the hospital, the nanny changed her diapers. You know, I did not change a single one of my daughter’s diapers. I paid someone to do that because that’s how I grew up, both of us. Throw money at problem you don’t want to deal with. At first we only wanted the good parts, the cute baby stuff, none of the mess. But she got bigger, more complicated and we didn’t know when the good was going to come so we got distant and we are fucking assholes for it. We are exactly the stuck up rich assholes you think we are, Dean.”

“And it’s a little too late to ask for forgiveness from a person that has every right to hate us,” said Y/N’s mother.

“She does not hate you. She loves you. You just make her sad and feel bad about herself,” said Dean.

“We can’t fix that damage,” she said.

“Your daughter used to wear long sleeves, all the time. She hid her body away because she was embarrassed of the scars covering it. Now, now she wears pretty sundresses like that one you have on that show off these big things covering her and she doesn’t think twice. Do you know how she got there? Because it took a lot, and I mean a lot, of work to make sure she knew down to her core that I thought she was beautiful. She is. I’m not blind and I see the scars but I don’t see them the same way she does. I see the most amazing woman on earth and she finally sees it too. It’s not too late to try. But it’s not an easy fix and it’s not something you can throw money at,” said Dean.

“You can’t even see how in love with her you are, can you?” asked Y/N’s mom with a smile. “You’re trying to save something for her, even though you despise us. You flew down here when you’re afraid of flying. You’re hopelessly in love with her.”

“I will gladly be hopelessly in love with her for the rest of eternity,” said Dean.

“You have permission to marry our daughter on one condition,” said Y/N’s father.

“Quite frankly sir, I don’t give a shit about your condition. I’m going to ask your daughter to marry me whether I have your blessing or not. I came here to say that no matter what your answer is, you can still be part of our family. All I ask is that you try,” said Dean. “That’s it.”

“You can marry our daughter if you promise to keep loving her the way you so clearly do and fix our mistakes,” he said.

“She’s not broken. She never has been,” said Dean.

“I think you’ll handle the condition just fine,” he said with a sad smile.

“Thank you,” said Dean with a nod, standing up.

“No, please stay,” said Y/N’s mom. “I think we’d both like to talk to you some more.”

“Sure. We can do that.”

 

“So,” said Sam the next evening, picking Dean up from the airport. “How’d the super secret classified mission go?”

“They’re trying. They’re going to start trying even harder now. That’s good,” said Dean.

“And the asking to marry their daughter thing?” asked Sam, Dean nodding.

“I’m gonna marry, Y/N someday,” said Dean with a soft smile, leaning his head against the window. “I hope.”

“She’s gonna say yes,” teased Sam.

“You don’t know that,” said Dean.

“I totally do know it,” said Sam. “You make her sickeningly happy too.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just take me home, Sammy. I got an engagement to figure out.”


	22. Dean's Bad Night Timestamp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Written in Dean’s POV of Part 8 of Broken Like Me…

“Dean,” I heard mom say as I tried to slip back into my boots. “Dean, sweetie-”

“I have to go,” I said, too harsh but I could already hear him walking down the hall. “Thanks for lunch.”

“You’re 30, Dean. Why won’t you grow up and get a real job?” said dad. I didn’t say a word, finishing tieing up one boot by the time he was standing right in front of me. “Look at me.”

“I have to go,” I repeated, working on the other shoe, standing upright when I finished, dad just looking at me with that same face he always did. Disappointment. Failure. Worthless. Weak. Not a man, just a child. Selfish. Stupid.

I grabbed my jacket and held onto the anger. Anger would stop any emotion from coming out. Oh, I forgot how pathetic he surely felt I was because I went to a therapist.

“If you’re going to be staying in Lawrence, get a real job, Dean,” he said.

“Or what? You’ll disown me again?” I snapped. He scoffed and shook his head, going out to the garage, slamming the door.

“Dean, you know he loves you-”

“Does he? I know he loves Sammy. He doesn’t look at Sammy like he’s ashamed of his existence,” I said. Her face dropped, mouth open but I knew she wouldn’t know what to say. She’d been stuck in the middle of this for years. “I got to go. I’m not going to do anything stupid because I know that’s what you’re thinking, mom.”

I pulled on my jacket and left before she got in another word.

 

Work. I could dive headfirst into work and that would take the edge off. It’s what had been working whenever things got tense for the past few weeks. Granted it hadn’t been as bad as today but work would be good for this.

A few emails in and there was a text from Carla that popped up.

_***What is going on with you and Michael Reyburn? He’s all over your instagram*** _

I quickly went to my page, a text popping up again.

**_*Don’t look at the comments. Dean, honey. Please don’t.*_ **

Too late for that.

I met Michael at the audition day for the Calvin Klein contract. There were about five or so guys they asked to come in and do some test shoots. Michael thought he had it in the bag, openly making comments about the rest of us. I knew I was the least fit out of the five of us. Three were absolutely shredded, one guy looked a bit in between and then there was me, healthy and everything but there wasn’t definition, not really.

I also didn’t want to spend all of my free time in a gym and could string a sentence together like an adult so there was that.

Oh and the even better part had been the fact that we were stuck in skin tight boxer briefs, mine a size too small, all of ours were, showing off every single thing. There was no shame in that department and there was no reason to be but that just was another thing the guy had decided to rip on the rest of us over.

Apparently he’d been their new pick after I lost the contract and he was bragging about it on every single post I’d ever made.

Fat. Idiot. Biggest stomach he’d ever seen. Junk looked like he’d been fixed like a dog. Fatass. Loser. Paid his way into getting the contract. Was a little bottom bitch boy. Probably never been laid in his life. Paid his ex girlfriends to go out with him. Friendless. Fat, again. Fucked up freak.

New girl was going to dump his ass the second she realized the money stopped coming, saw what was under my shirt, under my pants. Point and laugh she would. I should break things off and save her the time. But I was too fucking stupid to even hold a conversation so that would be too difficult for me.

Oh and I was wannabe little virgin slut that his daddy didn’t love enough.

Well, Michael had gotten one part right at least.

**_*Dean, respond to me. NOW.*_ **

**_*I’m fine Carla. I’m busy with emails and I got a date with Y/N later. Relax.*_ **

**_*I know you saw and none of what he said is true, Dean.*_ **

**_*I’m fine.*_ **

She texted a few more times but I stopped responding. Yeah, logically, none of it was true. Except for dad. No, he loved me. But did he? I knew it wasn’t the same as Sammy. It’d never been the same. I was different. He loved me but it was less than Sammy. I knew that, I’d known for a long time. Yeah, that wasn’t new, nothing to get worked up over.

But it was true. And I wasn’t fit like the other guys. I had a tummy. That was okay though. That wasn’t news either. I wasn’t good enough for a lot of stuff but still, that was alright.

“Stop it,” I mumbled to myself, tossing my phone onto my bed, climbing on top of it, tucking my knees up to my chest. “Don’t let this shit…you have dealt with way fucking worse, Winchester. You’ve been called worse than that.”

Maybe it only bothers me so much because it’s true…

“Stop it,” I said again, squeezing my eyes shut. Count. Dr. Bram says got to count when it gets like this. I took a deep breath, trying to count them. I wonder if Y/N if got like this…no, no. She was normal. She wasn’t fucked up. She was amazing and maybe she went to Dr. Bram too but so had Sam and those two were both normal people. I was the one that was pathetic and crying on his bed in his brother’s house.

She was going to realize she made a mistake, wasn’t she? Maybe that’s what she was going to do on our date. Break things off. She had enough problems to deal with besides having a worthless boyfriend on top of it. She needed to focus on herself, not me. She was too nice though, wanted to probably have it happen after a nice meal. A clean break for herself. Get rid of the pain in the ass she’d been unfortunate enough to wind up with.

But she was my girl. I…she was so easy to talk to…she didn’t look at me like other people did…

She was going to be gone like that and soon too.

“Dean?” said Sam, knocking on my door, pushing it open. I glanced up at him, not realizing it’d gotten so late. He sighed, my gaze going straight down. “De, what happened?”

“I wish I wasn’t so fucked up, Sammy,” I said. He was quiet as he sat down on the bed. He put a hand on my shoulder but the second I flinched, he pulled it back. Oh god. It was a miracle he hadn’t tossed me out yet.

“Dean. What happened?” he asked quietly.

“Nothing. Some model dick online talking trash about getting the contract, just general crap. You know, regular fucked up, Dean,” I said.

“You aren’t fucked up,” he said.

“Funny. I never came home and found you curled up on bed like this,” I said.

“De, stop it. You look bad…like after the fight with dad in the spring. You scared me so much those few days,” he said.

“Should have stopped caring Sammy. Everybody else has,” I said, turning my head away. “Can you call Dr. Bram? See if I can talk to him?”

“Of course, De,” said Sam. He pulled out his phone, didn’t bother to leave the room as he called. He talked quickly, Sam nodding to himself before he hung up. “Do you want me to go over with you? Dr. Bram said he’ll meet you there.”

“No, Sammy,” I said, standing up, grabbing my phone and keys. “I just…I gotta go.”

 

It was nearly seven when I got to Dr. Bram’s. He was waiting right inside, giving me a smile when I shut the door behind me.

I felt like I was going to throw up.

“Dean, you’re shaking,” he said, quickly walking over and grabbing my arm.

“Scared,” I blurted out, knowing I was looking at him like a terrified child.

“This is a safe place, Dean,” he said. “Can we go sit in my office?”

I nodded, walking with him back there, taking a seat in my normal spot, Dr. Bram leaving the office and doing something in the kitchen. He returned after a moment with a few bottles of cold water, a cup of tea and a large blanket.

“Please,” he said, handing it to me. I didn’t quite understand what he wanted but he held it out to me. I swallowed and took it, Dr. Bram staring at me until I unfolded it and pulled it over my lap. It was heavy, Dr. Bram unscrewing one of the bottles and placing it on the end table next to me.

He moved to the other side of the room and to his desk, grabbing his notebook. He set that down on the coffee table and grabbed his chair, pulling it over to the couch, taking a seat.

“Emergency sessions are a little different than what you’re used to, Dean, so I’ll go over a few things before we get started. Some of these are serious questions but I need you to be truthful with me, alright?” he asked. I nodded, Dr. Bram giving me a smile. “Have you hurt yourself or do you want to?”

“No. I wouldn’t,” I said.

“It’s okay, Dean. I have to ask. Have you taken anything?” he asked. I shook my head. “Okay. The hard questions are over.”

“Those were the easy ones,” I mumbled.

“You’re okay here, Dean. Now, I knew when you walked in what the answers were and I know you but I had to know. Now this is still an emergency session and we got different rules like I said. There is no time limit. We stay as long as we need to. Don’t look at the clock. I can’t force you to stay but I don’t want you to go until I feel you’ll be alright. Okay?”

I nodded, running my hands over the blanket.

“That’s a weighted blanket. It helps some people calm down. Some people just like having a blanket for nights like this. If you end up liking it, I can order you one,” he said.

“Y/N has one like this,” I said, glancing at him.

“She recommended it to me actually after she researched them. I have some other patients that now use them,” he said.

“Isn’t it expensive?” I asked.

“Like I said, emergency sessions are different, Dean. You can use my private bathroom off to the side and if you want something to eat, just let me know and we’ll order it,” said Dr. Bram.

“Okay,” I said quietly, grabbing the blanket, pulling it up a little.

“Want to tell me why you’re so scared, Dean?” he asked softly. I closed my eyes, rubbing my hands against my thighs. “Why are you afraid of me, Dean?”

“Because you’ve never seen me like this,” I breathed out. “I barely pulled myself together so I could drive over here and I know it’s going to break really soon.”

“Have I ever judged you?” he asked.

“I know you say you don’t but you must,” I said dryly. “I’m your longest patient. I’m such a fuck up. I’m a grown man that still needs to come here. How do you not judge me? Of course you do. Even if you don’t think I’m pathetic, you either pity me or feel sorry for me.”

“I went to therapy as a child, Dean,” he said with a smile. I blinked at him, Dr. Bram smiling still. “I know how scary it is to sit on that side of the room. I do not judge you, Dean. I judge none of my patients. You all have different problems, different experiences, different lives. But none of you are judged. But some of you, my long term patients…you especially, Dean, I root for you. I hope that someday these burdens and demons you carry in you can get quiet. You are not weak or pathetic. You are my longest patient I’ve ever had, yes. Watching you grow has made me very proud, Dean. Sam informed me after you left that you made the decision yourself to come here tonight, no prompting from him. That’s an incredibly brave thing to do, Dean and I’m proud of you for making that decision.”

I stared at him, Dr. Bram grabbing his cup of tea and taking a sip.

“Fuck,” I whispered, the heat building in my face. Of fucking course he had to go all Dr. Bram and say something nice, something that broke that wall down.

“Are you still afraid of me, Dean?” he asked. I shook my head, Dr. Bram giving me a nod. “Okay. Why don’t you start at the beginning, tell me what all of this is about?”

 

“I see,” said Dr. Bram when I finished telling him about the fight with dad at lunch and the other model and then all the thoughts that had been floating around my head, especially about Y/N. “Has Y/N said anything to make you think these thoughts have any basis?”

“I…she’s so nice, Dr. Bram. She’d never say anything mean. She’s just going to break it off. We were supposed to be on a date tonight. I wouldn’t be surprised if were through already,” I said, closing my eyes. We were over just like that and I didn’t even get to say goodbye. It was probably for the best. I’d end up making a fool of myself. She didn’t want to see that. She didn’t want the screwed up-

Dr. Bram and I both popped up our heads when his computer made a loud pinging noise. He quickly stood up and pointed for me to stay, exiting the room. Someone had come in the front door, a bit of shuffling going on outside before Dr. Bram returned and shut the door.

He took a seat again with a smile.

“Y/N’s here,” he said gently. “She’s concerned for you. She’s going to stay out in the waiting area in the event you want her.”

“What?” I said, Dr. Bram leaning forward in his seat.

“Your girlfriend is concerned for you and she’s going to be here for you as long as you need her,” he said. “She’s here for you, Dean.”

“That’s not…she’s going to break up with me,” I said, shaking my head.

“No, no she’s not, Dean,” he said. “She’s here because she cares about you. I think that’s a very special girl you have.”

“But…” I said, taking a deep breath. It was quiet in the room for a long time, Dr. Bram not pushing anything, letting me get it all out of my system. He moved to sit on the couch, rubbing up and down my back when I nodded it was alright. It took awhile before I felt too tired to be upset anymore, Dr. Bram forcing me to drink some water when I finished.

“I was so wrong,” I breathed out, voice hoarse, throat scratchy and burning. “How could I be so fucking  _wrong_?”

“Our heads get funny sometimes. It happens to all of us. You had a very difficult day, Dean,” he said.

“But if I was so wrong about Y/N, how can I believe that-”

“Dean, it’s been quite a few years since we’ve talked regularly. Back then you were still in high school. I think if you’re comfortable, talking about your previous relationships might help me help you,” said Dr. Bram. I nodded and took a deep breath. “It can be girlfriends, just a date, anything you think is important.”

“I met this girl like three days into when I moved to LA. She was older, probably 25. Cute girl but way too much makeup. I was naive though. She ended up taking me back to her place for a hookup. I didn’t really like it, that wasn’t what I was taught, you know? But that’s all she wanted and like I said, I was 18 and stupid. When I was leaving, she made a comment about…my body. Like it was good but I’d have to get it better because my pretty face would only get me so far there.

“I did the hookup thing on and off for awhile. I always got this reaction of like wow, you’re great at sex but it’s a shame you don’t have abs. Like what the hell does that have to do with just having a little fun? So I started to wear a shirt whenever I did that stuff and it got fun again,” I said.

“Sex is a very vulnerable thing, especially with a person you don’t know well. You realize you were trying to hide yourself,” said Dr. Bram.

“Yeah. I sort of stopped doing the hookup stuff because first off, I didn’t ever like it, I wanted a relationship like a normal person. But then I was thinking, relationships are so much more than just physical. So I eventually found this girl when I was 22, another model, and we started dating,” I said. “She was probably my first girlfriend I had for more than a few weeks.”

“How’d that go?” he asked.

“She broke it off when I wasn’t buying stuff for her,” I said with a smirk. “I thought for a long time that I was just bad at being a boyfriend. Of course I should have bought her presents every once in while, that was normal, right? Next girlfriend abused the hell out of that and I broke it off when I started to understand she just wanted my money. That’s what it turned into, they either wanted sex or money or arm candy to show off. But they always reminded me that they could have a better looking guy if they wanted, I always got that. Then earlier this year I met a girl at events a few times and started to hang out. I was really trying the friend thing with her and she seemed into that too. I figured out she was playing along later on but it was nice to try and have that kind of relationship first. We got together eventually because I’m getting older and I thought time to stop fucking things up and grow up. She moved in pretty fast and then she cheated on me.

“That hurt and we fought and I tried to explain why that really, really hurt and I opened up to her about stuff, stuff like dad and therapy and old girlfriends and how that I couldn’t just get over it like she wanted me to. She told me I was a freak and I kicked her ass out and didn’t look back. That was when I called home and got in that fight with dad and Sammy came out to stay with me in the spring,” I said. “The rest I guess you know.”

“I see,” said Dr. Bram. He leaned back in his chair, glancing at the door to his office, giving it a small smile. “Y/N is not like those other women I hope you can see.”

“She came here. For me,” I said quietly. “No one else would have ever done that.”

“She treats you with the respect you deserve and from what you said, you haven’t been shown that before. It’ll take time for you to get comfortable with a relationship like this, Dean. As you said, you’ve always hidden part of yourself away before, you weren’t vulnerable with your partners. This is different, isn’t it,” he said.

“I’m scared she’ll want to get rid of me when she realizes I’m not as strong as she thinks I am,” I said.

“I don’t think you should be,” he said. “I saw it in her face tonight. Weakness did not cross her mind. She simply wants to support her partner as you’ve done for her.”

“This is too much,” I said. “It’s too much to put on her.”

“Things like this are how we learn if our partners are going to care for us the way we need them to. People are not perfect and no relationship is, Dean. But they can be good, very good, if we open ourselves up and try. Yes, Y/N could hurt you, she could hurt you very badly. She could also be the one that gives you that care and affection you’ve been starved of,” he said.

“What if she says no?” I asked.

“What if she says yes?” said Dr. Bram softly. “We both know she’s still here and it’s been a very long time. You already know the answer, Dean. Just be the brave man I know you are and allow it to happen.”

I shut my eyes and sighed, slumping back into the couch.

“I think you’re ready to go home and get some rest,” said Dr. Bram. “You need to eat some food and drink something when you do.”

“Can Y/N take me? I’m too tired to drive,” I said, the sudden urge to just fall asleep forever hitting me.

“I’m sure she would love to. It’s probably a good idea if you stay with her tonight too,” he said.

“Okay,” I mumbled.

“You’ll be alright, Dean. I promise.”

 

I knew I was zoning as Y/N drove, not paying much attention to anything. She was concerned but…there was no judgement there. She was so kind and good and the fact she really wanted to stay with me put more than a few things at ease. I smiled a little when I realized she was walking to the front door without her hat, that Sammy would see her scar. She was so brave. I could try being brave like that too.

The rest of the night I let her move me around, tell me where to sit, what to do, what to eat. It was nice for a moment to not have to worry and let her take care of me. She cared so much. She was better than those other women. I’d always known that but…she was never going to care about my body, about looks or money or any of that.

I didn’t deserve her, never would. But I didn’t have to be so afraid of her running away.

“Sh,” she shushed me in bed, my face tucked into the crook of her neck, so exhausted, her body warm and soft beside me. He fingers ran through my hair gently and I nuzzled into a few times, Y/N holding me close.

I could fall apart and she was still there.

Oh, I loved this girl. If only someday I was brave enough to show her that too.


End file.
